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What our contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again.
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
Hurl
Contempt
Wish
Often
More quotes by William Shakespeare
All his successors gone before him have done 't and all his ancestors that come after him may.
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Be cheerful wipe thine eyes: Some falls are means the happier to arise
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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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I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
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Women speak two languages - one of which is verbal.
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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
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He is the most wretched of men who has never felt adversity.
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How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
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Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
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Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety.
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What's done can't be undone.
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If is a custom, More honor'd in the breach than the observance.
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We are advertis'd by our loving friends.
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Ships are but boards, sailors but men there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I mean pirates, and thenthere is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks.
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Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend.
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Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week, Or if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
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Why what a fool was I to this drunken monster for a God. - Caliban
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He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat.
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I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.
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To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first.
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