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So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.
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
Desdemona
Pitch
Goodness
Turn
Virtue
Shall
Turns
Make
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A light heart lives long.
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Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
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Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
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I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
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I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
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A beggar's book outworths a noble's blood.
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'By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible true, that thou art beauteous truth itself, that thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have commiseration on thy heroical vassal.
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A light wife doth make a heavy husband.
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Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
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And thence from Athens turn away our eyes To seek new friends and stranger companies.
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A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff.
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Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue but moody and dull melancholy, kinsman to grim and comfortless despair.
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Time does not have the same appeal for every one
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Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet--nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.
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With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
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Covering discretion with a coat of folly.
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Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate
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Poor and content, is rich and rich enough But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
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Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.
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Time travels at different speeds for different people. I can tell you who time strolls for, who it trots for, who it gallops for, and who it stops cold for.
William Shakespeare
