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I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.

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
Like
Merchants
Venice
Villain
Fairs
Fair
Terms
Term
Mind

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Say, thou art mine and ever, My love, as it begins, shall so persevere
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For grief is crowned with consolation.
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Why, thou owest god a death.
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But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.
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Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.
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Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
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I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo to in festival terms.
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Though inclination be as sharp as will, My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent, And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect.
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Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
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A very scurvy fellow.
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O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
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The strawberry grows underneath the nettle And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.
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She told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love, but if she lost it Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After new fancies.
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I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!
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Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.
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Give me mine angle, we'll to th' river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finned fishes. My bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws and as I draw them up, I'll think them every one an Antony, And say, 'Ah, ha! are caught!'
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Great floods have flown From simple sources.
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I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.
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Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
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Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep To sleep, perchance to dream—For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause, there's the respect, That makes calamity of so long life
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