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How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
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
Seems
Beauteous
Give
Ornament
Giving
Ornaments
Much
Doth
Sweet
Seem
Beauty
Truth
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
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Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.
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Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only Which your disease requires.
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Mine honour is my life both grow in one Take honour from me, and my life is done.
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To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy.
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Temptation: the fiend at my elbow.
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Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might. Whoever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight.
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Give me my robe, put on my crown I have Immortal longings in me.
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What soilders whey-face? The English for so please you. Take thy face hence.
William Shakespeare
Have patience, and endure
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Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
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My endeavors Have ever come too short of my desires. Yet filed with my abilities.
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What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye
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Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course.
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For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
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Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves.
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Have you not love enough to bear with me, when that rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful.
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Journeys end in lovers meeting.
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This thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.
William Shakespeare
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
William Shakespeare
