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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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
Heavens
Hung
Yield
Theater
Heaven
Black
Night
Mourning
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
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Villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man Snakes in my heart-blood warm'd, that sing my heart Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas.
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O that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused!
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O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch! Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
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O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours with Time's deformed hand Have written strange defeatures in my face. But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?
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What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
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Let none presume To wear an undeserved dignity.
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POLONIUS: What do you read, my lord? HAMLET: Words, words, words.
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A sympathy in choice.
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To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
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To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.
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We few. We happy few. We band of brothers, for he today That sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.
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The weakest goes to the wall.
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Time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arm outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer.
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And what’s he then that says I play the villain?
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No man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger.
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What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.
William Shakespeare
I'll be at charges for a looking-glass And entertain a score or two of tailors To study fashions to adorn my body: Since I am crept in favor with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost.
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Words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.
William Shakespeare
