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A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.
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
Much
Adversity
Cry
Weight
Quiet
Burdened
Hear
Bruised
Pain
Wretched
Light
Complain
Soul
Complaining
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Thou speak'st like him's untutored to repeat: Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.
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Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.
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Holy, fair, and wise is she The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.
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Men judge by the complexion of the sky The state and inclination of the day.
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Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
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Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
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My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation.
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A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.
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Grief hath two tongues and never woman yet Could rule them both without ten women's wit.
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Thou art sad get thee a wife, get thee a wife!
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I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.
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Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.
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Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.
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Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.
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I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
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Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining.
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Taste your legs, sire: put them into motion.
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Would the cook were o' my mind!
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No worse a husband than the best of men.
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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.
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