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Nay, had I pow'r, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Pour
Earth
Milk
Unity
Chaos
Universal
Uproar
Pow
Sweet
Concord
Hell
Confound
Peace
More quotes by William Shakespeare
We must be brief when traitors brave the field.
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A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
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I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
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Ready to go but never to return.
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A tardiness in nature, Which often leaves the history unspoke, That it intends to do.
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Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
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If he be so resolved, I can o'ersway him for he loves to hear That unicorns may be betrayed with trees And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, Lions with toils, and men with flatterers
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Such antics do not amount to a man.
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Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied.
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In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life.
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Were it good To set the exact wealth of all our states All at one cast? to set so rich a main On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour? It were not good.
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I do love My country's good with a respect more tender, More holy and profound, then mine own life, My dear wife's estimate, her womb increase, And treasure of my loins.
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Unquiet meals make ill digestions.
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where To lie in cold obstrution and to rot This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
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Let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives, Our children, and our sins, lay on the King!
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For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
William Shakespeare
A smile cures the wounding of a frown.
William Shakespeare
Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit and for lovers, lacking--God warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
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Here comes Monseiur Le Beau. Rosalind: With his mouth full of news. Celia: Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rosalind: Then shall we be news-crammed. Celia: All the better we shall be the more marketable.
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It was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common.
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