Fortune is painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind

Quote by Shakespeare

Topics: Fortune Quotes

He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.

He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.

To their right praise and true perfection!

To their right praise and true perfection!

There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.

There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet...

Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet...

O' What may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side!

O' What may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side!

My library was dukedom large enough.

My library was dukedom large enough.

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud For grief is proud an't makes his...

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud For grief is proud an't makes his...

Mine honor is my life; both grow in one; Take honor from me, and my...

Mine honor is my life; both grow in one; Take honor from me, and my...

When love begins to sicken and decay it uses an enforced ceremony.

When love begins to sicken and decay it uses an enforced ceremony.

Love is like linen; often changed, the sweeter.

Love is like linen; often changed, the sweeter.

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor

Go to you bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

Go to you bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

Like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks

Like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

Grief makes one hour ten

Grief makes one hour ten

Now is the winter of our discontent.

Now is the winter of our discontent.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.

I will praise any man that will praise me.

I will praise any man that will praise me.