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But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts whereof I take this that you call love to bea sect or scion.... It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will.
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
Humanity
Sects
Call
Cynicism
Stings
Reason
Permission
Lusts
Take
Lust
Whereof
Love
Rage
Carnal
Cool
Sect
Merely
Raging
Blood
Motions
More quotes by William Shakespeare
We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.
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O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer!
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So well thy words become thee as thy wounds.
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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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These words are razors to my wounded heart.
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O, Thou hast damnable iteration and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint.
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A plague on both your houses.
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Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)
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Thou weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath.
William Shakespeare
My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
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As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not (5.3.25-28).
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There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond And do a willful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dressed in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity profound conceit As who should say, I am sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
William Shakespeare
The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape, In forms imaginary, th' unguided days And rotten times that you shall look upon When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
William Shakespeare
Why, all delights are vain, but that most vain Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book, To seek the light of truth, which truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.
William Shakespeare
Twas a clever quibble. Here, a garment for it.
William Shakespeare
Do not speak like a death's-head, do not bid me remember mine end.
William Shakespeare
I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
William Shakespeare
If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.
William Shakespeare
Every offense is not a hate at first.
William Shakespeare
To this urn let those repair That are either true or fair For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
William Shakespeare
