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O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR: Let me wipe it first it smells of mortality.
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
Kings
Lear
Hand
Smells
Hands
Wipe
Firsts
Mortality
First
Kiss
Smell
Kissing
King
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Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
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Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
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The apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.
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Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
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I have touched the highest point of all my greatness.
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Conscience is but a word that cowards use, devised at first to keep the strong in awe
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A very little little let us do And all is done.
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I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking.
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Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
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The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
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Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog.
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Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
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Good wombs have borne bad sons. -- (Miranda, I:2)
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No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?
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I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am by seeming otherwise.
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What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.
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The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.
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