Zitate von William Shakespeare
Ein bekanntes Zitat von William Shakespeare:
Geld ist ein guter Soldat, mein Herr, und macht sich Bahn.
Informationen über William Shakespeare
Dramatiker, Dichter, Schauspieler, Sprachvirtuose, "Ein Sommernachtstraum", "Romeo und Julia", "Othello", "Hamlet", "Der Widerspenstigen Zähmung" (England, 1564 - 1616).
William Shakespeare · Geburtsdatum · Sterbedatum
William Shakespeare wäre heute 460 Jahre, 11 Monate, 16 Tage oder 168.362 Tage alt.
Geboren am 23.04.1564 in Stratford-upon-Avon
Gestorben am 23.04.1616 in Stratford-upon-Avon
Sternzeichen: ♉ Stier
Unbekannt
Weitere 3.503 Zitate von William Shakespeare
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Who's there i' the other devil's name! Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O! come in, equivocator.
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Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will, And Will to boot, and Will in over-plus.
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Why bastard? wherefore base? When my dimensions are as well compact, My mind as generous, and my shape as true, As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? Who in the lusty stealth of nature take More composition and fierce quality Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, Got 'tween asleep and wake?
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Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geck and gull That e'er invention played on? Tell me why.
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Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
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Why, all delights are vain: but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.
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Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric; I am justly killed with my own treachery.
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Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.
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Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, And cry 'Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions. I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, Deceive more slyly than Ulysses could, And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. I can add colours to the chameleon, Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, And set the murderous Machiavel to school. Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down.
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Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungallèd play; For some must watch, while some must sleep: So runs the world away.
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Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
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Why, then the world's mine oyster, Which I with sword will open.
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Why, this is very midsummer madness.
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Why, what a candy deal of courtesy This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
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Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red.
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Will you put out mine eyes? These eyes that never did nor never shall So much as frown on you?
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Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.
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Wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee, understand a plain man in his plain meaning.
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Winter tames man, woman and beast.
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Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves.