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Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for thunder?
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
Heaven
Thunder
Serves
Stones
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Let no such man be trusted.
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For there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part.
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You dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.
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Let the galled jade wince our withers are unwrung.
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They were devils incarnate.
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And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes.
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No metal can--no, not the hangman's axe--bear half the keenness of thy sharp envy.
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Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing.
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Tush! Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate Talkers are no good doers: be assured We come to use our hands and not our tongues.
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What must be shall be.
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Most dangerous is that temptation that doth goad us on to sin in loving virtue.
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.
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A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
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Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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Then with the losers let it sympathize, For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
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Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile Filths savour but themselves.
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And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.
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I dreamt my lady came and found me dead . . . . . . . . . . . . And breathed such life with kisses in my lips That I revived and was an emperor.
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We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.
William Shakespeare
