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To bed, to bed sleep kill those pretty eyes, And give as soft attachment to thy senses, As infants empty of all thought.
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
Eyes
Attachment
Eye
Soft
Thought
Senses
Give
Bed
Giving
Kill
Empty
Pretty
Infants
Sleep
Infant
More quotes by William Shakespeare
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind So flew'd, so sanded their heads are hung with ears that sweep away the morning dew.
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What man dare, I dare. Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The armed rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcan tiger Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble.
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So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly it strikes where it doth love.
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Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
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Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil. Are empty trunks o'erflourished by the devil.
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
William Shakespeare
Every thing that grows / Holds in perfection but a little moment.
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There's place and means for every man alive.
William Shakespeare
Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay, And that bare vowel ay shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I,if there be such an ay, Or those eyes shut,that make thee answer ay: If he be slain say ay,or if not,no: Brief sounds,determine of my weal or woe.
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My dull brain was wrought with things forgotten.
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Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
William Shakespeare
Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
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A great cause of the night is lack of the sun.
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Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.
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If thou dost love, proclaim it faithfully.
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The loyalty, well held to fools, does make Our faith mere folly.
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If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety.
William Shakespeare
A knavish speech sleeps in a fool's ear.
William Shakespeare
in that small [time] most greatly lived this star of England: Fortune made his sword, By which the world's best garden he achiev'd And left it to his son imperial lord. Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King of France and England did this King succeed Whose state so many of had the managing, That they lost France and made his England bleed.
William Shakespeare
Hold, or cut bowstrings.
William Shakespeare
