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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

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
Last
Mere
Eye
Scene
History
Taste
Ends
Second
Eventful
Everything
Strange
Sans
Stage
Childishness
Eyes
Oblivion
Lasts
Teeth

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Nor age so eat up my invention.
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All things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.
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Fear no more the heat o' th' sun Nor the furious winters' rages Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
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The people are the city.
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From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing.
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A book? O, rare one, Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment Nobler than that it covers.
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O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
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Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.
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This is a gift that I have, simple, simple a foolish extravagant spirit full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion.
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Hamlet: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ophelia: 'Tis brief, my lord. Hamlet: As woman's love.
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So holy and so perfect is my love, And I in such a poverty of grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop To glean the broken ears after the man That the main harvest reaps.
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Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born, To signify thou camest to bite the world.
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Preferred three hours quicker over one moment late.
William Shakespeare
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Let not the world see fear and sad distrust govern the motion of a kingly eye.
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The king is but a man, as I am the violet smells to him as it doth to me the element shows to him as it doth to me all his senses have but human conditions his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.
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There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous men.
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A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
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O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
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Shall we upon the footing of our land Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce, To arms invasive?
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All hoods make not monks.
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