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O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!
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
Long
Separation
Ruinous
Thou
Mansion
Memory
Dost
Building
Mansions
Leave
Inhabit
Memories
Lest
Growing
Breast
Fall
Breasts
More quotes by William Shakespeare
As chaste as unsunned snow.
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Then know, that I have little wealth to lose. A man I am, crossed with adversity My riches are these poor habiliments, Of which if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I have.
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A hundred thousand welcomes: I could weep, And I could laugh I am light and heavy: Welcome.
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Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden.
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Tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age, Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdened crawl toward death.
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There is a law in each well-ordered nation To curb those raging appetites that are Most disobedient and refractory.
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Preferred three hours quicker over one moment late.
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Ideas are the very coinage of your brain.
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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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Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.
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Honor, riches, marriage-blessing Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you!
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Look, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east! Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tip-toe on the misty mountain-tops.
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The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good. Pity is the virtue of the law, and none but tyrants use it cruelly.
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The horn, the horn, the lusty horn Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.
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Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes.
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We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good so find we profit By losing of our prayers.
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I have thrust myself into this maze, Haply to wive and thrive as best I may.
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Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns.
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Small things make base men proud.
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'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
William Shakespeare
