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Retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.
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
Grave
Graves
Third
Thirds
Shall
Milan
Age
Retire
Thought
Mortality
Every
Retiring
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow We are such stuff as dreams are made of.
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Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.
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Every true man's apparel fits your thief.
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A woman's fitness comes by fits.
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The play's the thing.
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I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?
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Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Nor age so eat up my invention, Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, But they shall find awaked in such a kind Both strength of limb and policy of mind, Ability in means, and choice of friends, To quit me of them throughly.
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Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire.
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Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.
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There is a history in all men's lives.
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Be just, and fear not.
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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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Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
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Love for thy love , and hand for hand I give.
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Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science Than I have in this ring.
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Under loves heavy burden do I sink. --Romeo
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Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men.
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Full fathom five thy father lies Of his bones are coral made Those are pearls that were his eyes Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them — Ding-dong, bell.
William Shakespeare
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
William Shakespeare
Come, Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.
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