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Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
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
Fancy
Lost
Women
Fancies
Wavering
Giddy
Sooner
Longing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.
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Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love. Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues. Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent for beauty is a witch Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
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Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
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O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
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How long a time lies in one little word?
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After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
William Shakespeare
O, this life Is nobler than attending for a check, Richer than doing nothing for a robe, Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk: Such pain the cap of him that makes him fine Yet keeps his book uncrossed.
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Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward To what they were before.
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Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
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The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst, 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
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where civil blood makes civil hands unclean
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Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
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New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let em be unmanly), yet are followed.
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Ingratitude is monstrous and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude of which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
William Shakespeare
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
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What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.
William Shakespeare
Never he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies.
William Shakespeare
