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Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Sorrow
Sweet
Shall
Goodnight
Night
Infatuation
Good
Juliet
Love
Parting
Morrow
Till
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And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.
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Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear
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O England! Model to thy inward greatness, like little body with a might heart.
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If people knew how much I hated them, they'd love me for holding it in.
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One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.
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she shall scant show well that now shows best.
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An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not.
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I am thy father's spirit Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg'd away.
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The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
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Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.
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I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
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Many strokes, though with a little axe, hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
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To pore upon a book, to seek the light of truth.
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The cunning livery of hell.
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O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, that he hath turn'd a heaven unto hell
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