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The breach of custom Is breach of all.
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
Breach
Custom
Customs
More quotes by William Shakespeare
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
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From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
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O excellent! I love long life better than figs.
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The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.
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Don't trust the person who has broken faith once.
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How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
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For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
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This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
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Affection, mistress of passion, sways it to the mood of what it likes or loathes.
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Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.
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Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief.
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
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When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy, over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will
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Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table.
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Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
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Though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy.
William Shakespeare
Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
William Shakespeare
A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
William Shakespeare
