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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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
Choose
Learning
Teach
Eye
Multitude
Show
Fond
Shows
Doth
Multitudes
Fool
More quotes by William Shakespeare
If fortune torments me, hope contents me.
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They that have voice of lions and act of hares,--are they not monsters?
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I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.
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Be merry you have cause, so have we all, of joy for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
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A fool's bolt is soon shot.
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God mark thee to His grace! Thou was the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. And might I live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
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The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance.
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Jesters do oft prove prophets.
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Mean and mighty, rotting Together, have one dust.
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Officers, what offence have these men done? DOGBERRY Marry, sir, they have committed false report moreover, they have spoken untruths secondarily, they are slanders sixth and lastly, they have belied a lady thirdly, they have verified unjust things and, to conclude, they are lying knaves.
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Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down
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When the age is in, the wit is out
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Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
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O' What may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side!
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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*
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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
William Shakespeare
Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.
William Shakespeare
Set your heart at rest. The fairyland buys not the child of me.
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When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.
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