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Do not speak like a death's-head, do not bid me remember mine end.
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
Mine
Head
Speak
Death
Ends
Remember
Like
Mortality
Mines
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
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Like the lily That once was mistress of the field and flourished, I'll hang my head and perish.
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If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!
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When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.
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Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
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The hideous god of war.
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Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all, all shall die.
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What's done can't be undone.
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Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves.
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What should we speak of When we are old as you? when we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December? how, In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse The freezing hours away?
William Shakespeare
What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.
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Exceeds man's might: that dwells with the gods above.
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I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.
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The will is deaf and hears no heedful friends.
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O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
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Of all the fair resort of gentlemen That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest love?
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A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by, and then his state Empties itself, as dot an inland brook Into the main of waters.
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It is a wise father that knows his own child.
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The language I have learnt these forty years, My native English, now I must forgo And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol or a harp, Or like a cunning instrument cased up Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
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The spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes.
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