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Virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
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
Virtue
Break
Never
Men
Troth
Breaks
Office
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.
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It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.
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There's never a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave.
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There's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.
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We cannot fight for love, as men may do we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo
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Too much to know is to know naught but fame.
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My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel I know not where I am nor what I do.
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The time of universal peace is near. Prove this a prosp'rous day, the three-nooked world Shall bear the olive freely.
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He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.
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We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
William Shakespeare
Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me.
William Shakespeare
They say best men are molded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad
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I that please some, try all, both joy and terror Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error.
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Good wine needs no bush.
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I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
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Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are!
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Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under't.
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I'll make death love me for I will contend Even with his pestilent scythe.
William Shakespeare
Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.
William Shakespeare
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
William Shakespeare
