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As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another The third o' th' world is yours, which with a snaffle You may pace easy, but not such a wife.
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
May
Would
Pace
World
Third
Thirds
Wife
Easy
Spirit
Another
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.
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Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.
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I wish you well and so I take my leave, I Pray you know me when we meet again.
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As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
William Shakespeare
Tis better using France than trusting France Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas, Which He hath given for fence impregnable, And with their helps only defend ourselves In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.
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The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.
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in black ink my love may still shine bright.
William Shakespeare
For I am nothing if not critical.
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The course of true love never did run smooth.
William Shakespeare
When the sea was calm all ships alike showed mastership in floating.
William Shakespeare
There is a river in Macedon, and there is moreover a river in Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both.
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Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
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The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep and leapt them over.
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The sense of death is most in apprehension.
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I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
William Shakespeare
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,Was once thought honest.
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The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
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I will despair, and be at enmity With cozening hope.
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Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!
William Shakespeare
My love's more richer than my tongue.
William Shakespeare
