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Cold indeed, and labor lost: Then farewell heat, and welcome frost!
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
Heat
Welcome
Winter
Indeed
Labor
Cold
Resignation
Lost
Frost
Farewell
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Will you walk out of the air, my lord? HAMLET Into my grave.
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A great cause of the night is lack of the sun.
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Fill all thy bones with aches.
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Woe to that land that's governed by a child.
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Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes For treason is but trusted like the fox, Who, ne'er so tame, so cherished and locked up, Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
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Be advised Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not, The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, In seeming to augment it wastes it?
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For to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
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I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. (Act III, sc. I, 37-38)
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So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven, Visit her face' too roughly.
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As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life, With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den, The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion Our worser genius can, shall never melt Mine honour into lust, to take away The edge of that day's celebration, When I shall think or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd Or Night kept chain'd below.
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A woman's fitness comes by fits.
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We are such stuff that dreams are made of.
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Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
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Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning One pain is less'ned by another's anguish Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
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I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.
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For mine own part, it was Greek to me.
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Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
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Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now.
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Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman.
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