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Where the greater malady is fixed, The lesser is scarce felt.
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
Malady
Lesser
Scarce
Fixed
Greater
Suffering
Felt
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Now no way can I stray Save back to England, all the world's my way.
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Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
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How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
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For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
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For grief is crowned with consolation.
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There's villainous news abroad.
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O heresy in fair, fit for these days, A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
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Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls Conscience is but a work that cowards use, Devised at first to keep the strong in awe: Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law!
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The weakest goes to the wall.
William Shakespeare
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, And where we are our learning likewise is.
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Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit and for lovers, lacking--God warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
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The wheel is come full circle.
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To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
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Farewell, my sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.
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Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.
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I know them, yea, And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys, That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and slander, Go antickly, and show outward hideousness, And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst And this is all.
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To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end.
William Shakespeare
Oh, I have passed a miserable night, so full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams!
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What wouldst thou do, old man? Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak When power to flattery bows?
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Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to th' rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
William Shakespeare
