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When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air the earth sings when he touches it the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.

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
Horns
Hoof
Touches
Basest
Pipe
Equestrian
Soar
Hermes
Musical
Hawk
Horse
Hawks
Air
Horn
Earth
Sings
Trots

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The earth, that is nature's mother, is her tomb.
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Shine out fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.
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I go, I go, look how I go, swifter than an arrow from a bow
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Old Time the clock-setter.
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Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
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A fool's bolt is soon shot.
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Our praises are our wages.
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The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure but modest doubt is called The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To th' bottom of the worst.
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While he was drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed.
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This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.
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Away! Thou'rt poison to my blood.
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Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight.
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To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder, In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick, cross lightning.
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If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre.
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No matter where of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth
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Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing.
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Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.
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