William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Quotes

  • ''I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
    Th' imaginary relish is so sweet
    That it enchants my sense.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida, act 3, sc. 2, l. 18-20. Anticipating his first chance to make love to Cressida.
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  • ''He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Agamemnon, in Troilus and Cressida, act 2, sc. 3, l. 154-7. Speaking to Ajax, who is as proud as any of the Greeks.
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  • ''I' th' East my pleasure lies.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra, act 2, sc. 3, l. 41. Married, and in Rome, Antony yearns for Egypt.
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  • ''Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Autolycus, in The Winter's Tale, act 4, sc. 4, l. 712-3. The rogue finds it useful sometimes to tell the truth.
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  • ''Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,
    One pain is lessened by another's anguish.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Benvolio, in Romeo and Juliet, act 1, sc. 2, l. 45-8. On Romeo's unrequited love for Rosaline; varying the proverb, "one fire drives out another."
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  • ''The last of all the Romans, fare thee well.
    It is impossible that ever Rome
    Should breed thy fellow.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Brutus, in Julius Caesar, act 5, sc. 3, l. 99-101. On the death of Cassius.
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  • ''When beggars die there are no comets seen;
    The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Calpurnia, in Julius Caesar, act 2, sc. 2, l. 30-1.
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  • ''They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many
    merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin
    Hood of England.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Charles, in As You Like It, act 1, sc. 1, l. 114-6. On the exiled Duke Senior.
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  • ''Is it sin
    To rush into the secret house of death
    Ere death dare come to us?''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra, act 4, sc. 15, l. 80-2. Contemplating suicide.
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  • ''If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
    When time is old and hath forgot itself,
    When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,
    And blind oblivion swallowed cities up,
    And mighty states characterless are grated
    To dusty nothing, yet let memory
    From false to false among false maids in love
    Upbraid my falsehood.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Cressida, in Troilus and Cressida, act 3, sc. 2, l. 184-91. An oath she notoriously breaks when she is in the Greek camp; "characterless are grated" = reduced to ruins without written records.
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Best Poem of William Shakespeare

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? (Sonnet 18)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe, or ...

Read the full of Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? (Sonnet 18)

Sonnet Ci

O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say
'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd;
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermix'd?'
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?