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For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.
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
Must
Fatness
Pardon
Vice
Vices
Virtue
Times
More quotes by William Shakespeare
France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits the tread of a man's foot.
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There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail.
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Yet, do thy worst, old Time despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.
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What, gone without a word? Ay, so true love should do it cannot speak, For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
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Good morrow, fair ones pray you, if you know, Where in the purlieus of this forest stands A sheep-cote fenc'd about with olive trees?
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Corruption wins not more than honesty.
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You have witchcraft in your lips, there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.
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Upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love.
William Shakespeare
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
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But when the fox hath once got in his nose, He'll soon find means to make the body follow.
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But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph.
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Say as you think and speak it from your souls.
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My desolation does begin to make A better life.
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This feather stirs she lives! if it be so, it is a chance which does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt.
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Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.
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Yield not thy neck To fortunes yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
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Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.
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All the world is a stage and we are merely players.
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The golden age is before us, not behind us.
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O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.
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