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And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.
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
Love
Drowsy
Speaks
Gods
Harmony
Heaven
Voice
Speak
Makes
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What, shall one of us, That struck for the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
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Graze on my lips and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
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There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
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What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.
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So, you are very welcome to our house. It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.
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He was ever precise in promise-keeping.
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And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.
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Thanks to men Of noble minds, is honorable meed.
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World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee/ Life would not yield to age.
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My only love sprung from my only hate.
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It is a wise father that knows his own child.
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I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.
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No worse a husband than the best of men.
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Cursed be he that moves my bones.
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For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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But jealous souls will not be answered so, They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they're jealous. 'Tis a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself.
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Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
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Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!
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Strikes deeper, grows with more pernicious root.
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A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm
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