#Quote
More Quotes by William Shakespeare
All the world is a stage and we are merely players.
Mercy but murders pardoning those who kill.
The Eyes are the window to your soul
For he today who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Brevity is the soul of wit
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
Lesser than Macbeth and greater. Not so happy, yet much happier. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.
