William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare – 23 April 1616) was an English poet, playwright, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet, and the "Bard of Avon". His extant works, including collaborations, consist of approximately 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses, some of uncertain authorship. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth23 April 1564
What a taking was he in when your husband asked who was in the basket!
She is your treasure, she must have a husband; I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day, And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell.
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine.
Maids want nothing but husbands, and when they have them, they want everything.
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate.
Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face! I had rather lie in the woolen.
Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have.
O, Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming, By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought Put on for villainy, not born where't grows, But worn a bait for ladies.
Fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger.
The fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she's fallen out with her husband.
Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee.
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
Let still woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner to be lost and warn, Than women's are.
Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!