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The will is infinite and the execution confin'd, the desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit.
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
Infinite
Limits
Desire
Monstrosity
Boundless
Execution
Limit
Lust
Slave
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Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
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And do so, love, yet when they have devised What strainèd touches rhetoric can lend, Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathized In true plain words by thy true-telling friend And their gross painting might be better used Where cheeks need blood in thee it is abused.
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Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace. Leave gormandizing.
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Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
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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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True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.
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A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
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Can we outrun the heavens?
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Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
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Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure let us be jocund
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One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
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Your if is the only peacemaker much virtue in if.
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Now 'tis spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden.
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In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life.
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You dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.
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Besides, they are our outward consciences, And preachers to us all, admonishing That we should drew us fairly for our end.
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You're in love? Out Out of love? I love someone. She doesn't love me.
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Heaven is above all yet there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
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I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.
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Trifles light as air are to the jealous confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ.
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