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His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise.
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
Thing
Begin
Springs
Every
Lies
Mary
Sweet
Lady
Pretty
Flowers
Steeds
Eyes
Arise
Winking
Lying
Golden
Larks
Eye
Spring
Buds
Water
Flower
Bud
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The soul of this man is his clothes.
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O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the Devil!
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Never play with the feelings of others, because you may win the game but the risk is that you will surely lose the person for life time
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Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, So am I driven by breath of her renown Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive Where I may have fruition of her love.
William Shakespeare
Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.
William Shakespeare
I'll read enough When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
William Shakespeare
Highly fed and lowly taught.
William Shakespeare
The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand.
William Shakespeare
Speak low, if you speak love.
William Shakespeare
I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
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Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile
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What my tongue dares not that my heart shall say
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Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
William Shakespeare
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
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Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
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The wounds invisible that Love's keen arrows make.
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Ingrateful man with liquorish draughts, and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind that from it all consideration slips.
William Shakespeare
The Thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman and to be King Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor.
William Shakespeare
Modest wisdom plucks me from over-credulous haste.
William Shakespeare
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all And thus the native hue of resolution Is slicked o'er with the pale cast of thought
William Shakespeare
