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I am not prone to weeping as our sex commonly are the want of which vain dew perchance shall dry your pities but I have that honorable grief lodged here which burns worse than tears drown.
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
Shall
Vain
Dew
Women
Pity
Prone
Grief
Drown
Cry
Burns
Worse
Commonly
Sorrow
Weeping
Pities
Sex
Honorable
Lodged
Tears
Dry
Perchance
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I have been long a sleeper but I trust My absence doth neglect no great design Which by my presence might have been concluded.
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You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.
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So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown When judges have been babes great floods have flown From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
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It is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love.
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Constant you are, But yet a woman and for secrecy, No lady closer for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.
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The labor we delight in physics [cures] pain.
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Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course.
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Give thy thoughts no tongue, nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.
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There is a time in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
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A good heart 'is worth gold.
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A beggar's book outworths a noble's blood.
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Oh, injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror
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And blind oblivion swallowed cities up.
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Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
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Lay aside life-harming heaviness, And entertain a cheerful disposition.
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Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.
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Love's best habit is a soothing tongue
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Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry
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Leave us to our free election.
William Shakespeare
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
William Shakespeare
