William Shakespeare Quotes

Life doesn't last; art doesn't last. It doesn't matter.

Avoid the world, it's just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end.

What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough; for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 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. Out, out, brief candle! 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.

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.

The world is all a carcass and vanity, The shadow of a shadow, a play And in one word, just nothing.

Regarding life, the wisest men of all ages have judged alike: it is worthless.

For boredom speaks the language of time, and it is to teach you the most valuable lesson of your life - the lesson of your utter insignificance.

It is meaningless that we are born, it is meaningless that we die.

The whole world's a bottle, And life's but a dram, When the bottle gets empty, It sure ain't worth a damn.

We're all making castles in the sand, wonderful tapestries, an exquisite corpse. But is it meaningful? No. It's dogs barking. It doesn't mean anything beyond our yelping, at the pain of being alive.

You are not a beautiful, unique snowflake... This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.

We pass through this world but once.

My work is about my life as an event, and I find myself to be very temporal, transient.

Heaven fashioned us of nothing; and we strive to bring ourselves to nothing.

Sometimes it feels as if everything in life is just something we haul into the grave.

We're all just passing time and occupy our chair very briefly.

It even feels absurd to be writing or singing a song at all - in the context of actual death, being alive feels absurd.

I searched all areas of knowledge, and not only did I fail to find anything, but I was convinced that all those who had explored as I did had also come up with nothing. Not only had they found nothing, but they had clearly acknowledged the same thing that had brought me to despair: the only absolute knowledge attainable by man is that life is meaningless.

Life is like a fire. Flames which the passer-by forgets. Ashes which the wind scatters. A man lived.

All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.

But life is short: while one lives, everything is lacking; when one is dead, everything is superfluous.

Remember that life holds out many pleasing deceits to us by the vanity of glory; for that when we are beginning to live, then we are dying. There is, therefore, nothing more profitless than ambition.