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Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle for many miles about There's scarce a bush.
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
Wilderness
Bush
Miles
Ruffle
Wind
Ruffles
Comes
Sorely
Night
Bleak
Many
Scarce
Winds
More quotes by William Shakespeare
[S]ince brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
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What valor were it, when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth, when he might spurn him with his foot away?
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For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.
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Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
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Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
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thy wit is a very bitter sweeting it is a most sharp sauce.
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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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Till all grace be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.
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Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return to plague the inventor.
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O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
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You'd be so lean, that blast of January Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might Become your time of day.
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Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel then what should war be?
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The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
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Seek happy nights to happy days.W
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Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind And makes it fearful and degenerate.
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There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
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Men's evil manners live in brass their virtues we write in water.
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How much an ill word may empoison liking!
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Fair is foul, and foul is fair, hover through fog and filthy air.
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Ambition, the soldier's virtue.
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