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Our rash faults Make trivial price of serious thing we have, Not knowing them until we know their grave.
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
Make
Trivial
Grave
Graves
Price
Faults
Serious
Knowing
Thing
Rash
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun it shines everywhere.
William Shakespeare
Now the melancholy of God protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, and their intent everywhere, for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing.
William Shakespeare
Should the poor be flattered? No let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, and crook the pregnant hinges of the knee where thrift may follow fawning.
William Shakespeare
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm
William Shakespeare
Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
William Shakespeare
Murder most foul, as in the best it it But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
William Shakespeare
Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by
William Shakespeare
All the world's a stage.
William Shakespeare
The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.
William Shakespeare
That but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come.
William Shakespeare
Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me
William Shakespeare
Make use of time, let not advantage slip Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.
William Shakespeare
Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
William Shakespeare
The hideous god of war.
William Shakespeare
Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait, His day's hot task hath ended in the west: The owl, night's herald, shrieks-'tis very late The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest And coal-black clouds, that shadow heaven's light, Do summon us to part, and bid good night.
William Shakespeare
Then imitate the action of the tiger stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
William Shakespeare
Hate pollutes the mind.
William Shakespeare
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs?
William Shakespeare
O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From the world-wearied flesh
William Shakespeare
I am declined Into the vale of years.
William Shakespeare
