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Weep I cannot But my heart bleeds.
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
Bleeds
Weep
Grief
Cannot
Heart
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Soft pity enters an iron gate.
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Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
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And do as adversaries do in law, strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
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If there is a good will, there is great way.
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The Foole doth thinke he is wise, but the wiseman knowes himselfe to be a Foole.
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Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet Grace must still look so.
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Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.
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When we mean to build, We first survey the plot, then draw the model And when we see the figure of the house, Then must we rate the cost of the erection.
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It will have blood, they say blood will have blood.
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The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart-see, they bark at me.
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Pardon, gentles all, the flat unraised spirits that have dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring forth so great an object.
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That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.
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A little more than kin, and less than kind.
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Fair Katherine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
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God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
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Would I were in an alehouse in London.
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From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
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For as a surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings, Or as tie heresies that men do leave Are hated most of those they did deceive, So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, Of all be hated, but the most of me!
William Shakespeare
So may I, blind fortune leading me, Miss that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.
William Shakespeare
My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.
William Shakespeare
