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Sin will pluck on sin.
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
Pluck
Sin
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
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Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
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Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor for 'tis the mind that makes the body rich
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I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
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Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet--nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.
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Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
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Do all men kill the things they do not love?
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Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments: love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds.
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Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make good people.
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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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And to be merry best becomes you for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. BEATRICE No, sure, my lord, my mother cried but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.
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When I waked, I cried to dream again
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I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love.
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But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
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I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
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Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?
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Let every man be master of his time.
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In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.
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Good fortune then! To make me blest or cursed'st among men.
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He that keeps not crust nor crum Weary of all, shall want some.
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