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Faith, I have been a truant in the law And never yet could frame my will to it, And therefore frame the law unto my will.
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
Therefore
Law
Faith
Never
Truant
Frame
Unto
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Doubt thou the stars are fire Doubt that the sun doth move Doubt truth to be a liar But never doubt I love.
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Let the galled jade wince our withers are unwrung.
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The gallantry of his grief did put me into a towering passion.
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Thou know'st 'tis common all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
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Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
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When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious And Brutus is an honourable man.
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The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.
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What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.
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ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave for there must I use thee.
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Two may keep counsel putting one away!
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She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
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Few love to hear the sins they love to act.
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His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.
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Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.
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Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.
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His worst fault is, he's given to prayer he is something peevish that way.
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So may the outward shows be least themselves The world is still deceived with ornament.
William Shakespeare
Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel.
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We wound our modesty and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.
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Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries.
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