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This we prescribe, though no physician Deep malice makes too deep incision Forget, forgive conclude and be agreed Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
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
Though
Malice
Forget
Physicians
Makes
Month
Forgive
Prescribe
Forgiving
Bleed
Doctors
Conclude
Deep
Physician
Months
Agreed
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I must be cruel, only to be kind.
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To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.
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Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
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Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.
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Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
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I have supped full with horrors.
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.
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Welcome ever smiles, and farewell goes out sighing.
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I cannot, nor I will not hold me still My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
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O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!
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And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.
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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
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What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.
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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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The spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes.
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We will have rings and things and fine array
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This blessèd plot, this earth, this realm, this England This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, . . . This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land.
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