William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Quotes

  • ''This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever
    Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems
    But smacks of something greater than herself,
    Too noble for this place.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Polixenes, in The Winter's Tale, act 4, sc. 4, l. 156-9. Speaking of Perdita; he doesn't yet know that she is a princess.
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  • ''He will give the devil his due.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Prince Hal, in Henry IV, Part 1, act 1, sc. 2, l. 119. Proverbial.
  • ''Out with it boldly; truth loves open dealing.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Queen Katherine, in Henry VIII, act 3, sc. 1, l. 39. She suspects the Cardinals visiting her are not being open.
  • ''But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
    It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet, act 2, sc. 2, l. 2-3. Looking up as a light appears in Juliet's window.
  • ''Seyton. The Queen, my lord, is dead.
    Macbeth. She should have died hereafter;
    There would have been a time for such a word.—
    Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
    Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
    To the last syllable of recorded time;
    And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
    The way to dusty death.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Seyton and Macbeth, in Macbeth, act 5, sc. 5, l. 16-23. Macbeth seems to have lost the ability to feel grief or any emotion.
  • ''In nature's infinite book of secrecy
    A little I can read.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Soothsayer, in Antony and Cleopatra, act 1, sc. 2, l. 10-11. His prophecies turn out to be accurate.
  • ''We are born to do benefits; and what better or properer can we call our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis to have so many like brothers commanding one another's fortunes!''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Timon, in Timon of Athens, act 1, sc. 2, l. 101-5. Timon's naive and misplaced trust in his friends.
  • ''As full of spirit as the month of May,
    And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Vernon, in Henry IV, Part 1, act 4, sc. 1, l. 101-2. Describing Prince Hal and his comrades, in armor to fight against the rebel noblemen.
  • ''1st Murderer. Where's thy conscience now?...
    2nd Murderer. I'll not meddle with it. It makes a man a coward.... It fills a man full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold that by chance I found. It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned out of towns and cities for a dangerous thing, and every man that means to live well endeavors to trust to himself and live without it.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. 1st and 2nd Murderers, in Richard III, act 1, sc. 4, l. 127, 134-5, 139-44. Debating what they have been hired to do, murder Clarence.
  • ''We are all frail.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Angelo, in Measure for Measure, act 2, sc. 4, l. 121. Proverbial, from the apocryphal Ecclesiasticus 8:5; "frail" means liable to sin, rather than physically weak.

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Best Poem of William Shakespeare

All The World's A Stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in ...

Read the full of All The World's A Stage

Sonnet Cviii

What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must, each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case

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