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How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!
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
Broke
Kept
Sweet
Music
Time
Soar
Proportion
More quotes by William Shakespeare
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!
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I have drunk and seen the spider.
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Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole.
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I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
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I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing.
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A king of infinite space
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Having my freedom, boast of nothing else.
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Thou art the Mars of malcontents.
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What our contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again.
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Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear and from the tents The armorers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation.
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O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.
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Grief makes one hour ten.
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Reputation is an idle and most false imposition oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
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Do not banish reason for inequality but let your reason serve to make the truth appear where it seems hid, and hide the false seems true.
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This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.
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By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost It yearns me not if me my garments wear Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive.
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Be as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee.
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Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, and with him rise weeping.
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Truth needs no color beauty, no pencil.
William Shakespeare
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.
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