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God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
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
Shall
Powerful
Hope
Lantern
Lanterns
Guide
Guides
Stay
Feet
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Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
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To do a great right do a little wrong.
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There's nothing in this world can make me joy.
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My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me!
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O powerful love, that in some respects makes a beast a man, in some other, a man a beast.
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Virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
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It is not night when I do see your face.
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Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.
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What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.
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There is an old poor man,. . . . Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger.
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If thou dost love, proclaim it faithfully.
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For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation.
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There is none of my uncle's marks upon you he taught me how to know a man in love in which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.
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These are the forgeries of jealousy And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport.
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Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.
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Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
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I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
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My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date But when in thee time's furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate.
William Shakespeare
Diseased Nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions.
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Virtue preserv'd from fell destruction's blast, Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last.
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