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O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art.
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
Art
Lays
Power
Sadness
Unkindness
Heart
Tongue
Slay
Call
Thine
Wrong
Sad
Upon
Wound
Eye
Justify
Use
Wounds
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Who would be so mocked with glory, or to live But in a dream of friendship, To have his pomp and all what state compounds But only painted, like his varnished friends?
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In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond.
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My stars shine darkly over me
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Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
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Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more a man who hath any honesty in him.
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This thought is as a death.
William Shakespeare
I had rather be a Kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I had rather heare a Brazen Candlestick turn'd, Or a dry Wheele grate on the Axle-tree, And that would set my teeth nothing an edge, Nothing so much, as mincing Poetrie.
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A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
William Shakespeare
What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
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I would give all of my fame for a pot of ale and safety.
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Make the upcoming hour overflow with joy, and let pleasure drown the brim.
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Our jovial star reigned at his birth.
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Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
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What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish a very ancient and fishlike smell a kind of not of the newest poor-John. A strange fish!
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Plenty and peace breed cowards hardness ever of hardiness is mother.
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Why, who cries out on pride that can therein tax any private party? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea till the weary very means do ebb?
William Shakespeare
He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger.
William Shakespeare
A pair of star-crossed lovers.
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I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
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I can no longer live by thinking.
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