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Hold, or cut bowstrings.
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
Cutting
Hold
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More quotes by William Shakespeare
A very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience.
William Shakespeare
He wears the rose Of youth upon him.
William Shakespeare
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
William Shakespeare
Things are often spoke and seldom meant.
William Shakespeare
Lord Bacon told Sir Edward Coke when he was boasting, The less you speak of your greatness, the more shall I think of it.
William Shakespeare
What a piece of work is a man
William Shakespeare
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed She is a woman, therefore to be won.
William Shakespeare
I dote on his very absence.
William Shakespeare
Time, whose millioned accidents creep in betwixt vows, and change decrees of kings, tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharpest intents, divert strong minds to the course of altering things.
William Shakespeare
By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me.
William Shakespeare
Thy tongue Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, With ravishing division, to her lute.
William Shakespeare
The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!
William Shakespeare
Time's the king of men he's both their parent, and he is their grave, and gives them what he will, not what they crave.
William Shakespeare
So curses all Eve's daughters of what complexion soever.
William Shakespeare
If is a custom, More honor'd in the breach than the observance.
William Shakespeare
It warms the very sickness in my heart, That I shall live and tell him to his teeth, Thus diddest thou
William Shakespeare
Love is merely a madness.
William Shakespeare
Jesters do oft prove prophets.
William Shakespeare
Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated
William Shakespeare
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
William Shakespeare
