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Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
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
Time
Wave
Like
Changing
Forwards
Towards
Hasten
Minutes
Contend
Goes
Mortality
Place
Toil
Ends
Waves
Make
Shore
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
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Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
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What else may hap, to time I will commit.
William Shakespeare
Withal I did infer your lineaments, Being the right idea of your father, Both in your form and nobleness of mind Laid open all your victories in Scotland, Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, Your bounty, virtue, fair humility Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse.
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The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.
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But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.
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Honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
William Shakespeare
I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.
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Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun it shines everywhere.
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I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess , that your wisdom yet From one that so imperfectly conjects Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
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These words are razors to my wounded heart.
William Shakespeare
But like of each thing that in season grows.
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Lawn as white as driven snow Cyprus black as e'er was crow Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
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To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
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See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He that but fears the thing he would not know, Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes, That what he feared is chanced.
William Shakespeare
I do oppose My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.
William Shakespeare
The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to.
William Shakespeare
A very ancient and fish-like smell.
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The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl, Advantaging their loan with interest Of ten times double gain of happiness.
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Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
William Shakespeare
