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Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.
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
Mad
Lack
Sure
Reason
Many
More quotes by William Shakespeare
If the boy have not a woman's gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift.
William Shakespeare
'Tis brief, my lord...as woman's love.
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Coal-black is better than another hue In that it scorns to bear another hue For all the water in the ocean Can never turn the swan's black legs to white, Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
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And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
William Shakespeare
Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked, or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee.
William Shakespeare
Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
William Shakespeare
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.
William Shakespeare
To sleep perchance to dream
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What must be shall be.
William Shakespeare
Though inclination be as sharp as will, My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent, And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect.
William Shakespeare
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.
William Shakespeare
A woman's fitness comes by fits.
William Shakespeare
Take you me for a sponge?
William Shakespeare
Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
William Shakespeare
Death rock me asleep.
William Shakespeare
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods they kill us for their sport.
William Shakespeare
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.
William Shakespeare
I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
William Shakespeare
For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
William Shakespeare
Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
William Shakespeare