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Ask me no reason why I love you for though Love use Reason for his physician, he admits him not for his counsellor.
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
Asks
Though
Use
Reason
Counsellor
Love
Counsellors
Admits
Physician
Physicians
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Few things loves better Than to abhor himself.
William Shakespeare
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
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God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.
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He that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail.
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O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul that, struggling to be free, art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart with strings of steel, be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
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Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
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Your praises will become your wages.
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Will you walk out of the air, my lord? HAMLET Into my grave.
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Be still prepared for death: and death or life shall thereby be the sweeter.
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The weary sun hath made a golden set And by the bright tract of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
William Shakespeare
My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
William Shakespeare
I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
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It hurts not the tongue to give fair words.
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The earth, that is nature's mother, is her tomb.
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Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough.
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We must not stint Our necessary actions in the fear To cope malicious censurers, which ever, As rav'nous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimmed, but benefit no further Than vainly longing.
William Shakespeare
O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
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O,speak to me no morethese words like daggers enter my ears.(a fancy way of saying SHUT UP!) — William Shakespeare hamlet
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If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
William Shakespeare
The head is not more native to the heart.
William Shakespeare
