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For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, And hold-fast is the only dog.
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
Dog
Oaths
Hold
Cakes
Men
Faiths
Straws
Oath
Prudence
Cake
Fast
Wafer
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short youth is nimble, age is lame Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold Youth is wild, and age is tame.
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My master hath been an honorable gentleman tricks he hath had in him which gentlemen have.
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Good counselors lack no clients.
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Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
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Strong reasons make strong actions let us go If you say ay, the king will not say no.
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Can it be chat modesty may more betray Our sense than woman's lightness?
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Mend when thou canst be better at thy leisure.
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Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
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Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep.
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The fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she's fallen out with her husband.
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This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
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O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
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He was ever precise in promise-keeping.
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I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation.
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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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Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!
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Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English.
William Shakespeare
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our country loss and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee wish not one man more.
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Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
William Shakespeare
'Tis better to bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.
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