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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
Desire
Monstrosity
Boundless
Execution
Limit
Lust
Slave
Infinite
Limits
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What is past is prologue.
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Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.
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Patch grief with proverbs.
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Great floods have flown From simple sources.
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How every fool can play upon the word!
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Let me not to the marriage of true minds
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What is aught but as 'tis valued?
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Fools are not mad folks.
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The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.
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He is white-livered and red-faced.
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I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire.
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Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.
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Nor aught so good but strained from that fair use, Revolts from true birth stumbling on abuse.
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I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
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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.
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Like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks.
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