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Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think'st him wronged, and mak'st his ear A stranger to thy thoughts.
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
Ears
Thoughts
Iago
Friend
Conspire
Think
Dost
Thinking
Wronged
Conspiracy
Stranger
Thou
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The strawberry grows underneath the nettle And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.
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Diseased Nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions.
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Being daily swallowed by men's eyes, They surfeited with honey and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June. Heard, not regarded.
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You must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.
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Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.
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To go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes
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Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounce it to you, trippingly on the tongue but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
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Every man has his fault, and honesty is his.
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Give me to drink mandragora.
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This night I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
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He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen, him not know t, and he's not robbed at all.
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The band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity.
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He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
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Sweets to the sweet.
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Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares, And think perchance they'll sell if not, The lustre of the better yet to show Shall show the better.
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Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.
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Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and many a time Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear for several virtues Have I liked several women never any With so full soul but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, And put it to the foil.
William Shakespeare
I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster!
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Love thyself last, cherish those hearts that hate thee Corruption wins not more than honesty.
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Report of fashions in proud Italy Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation Limps after in base imitation
William Shakespeare
