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I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come (Phebe)

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
Sigh
Till
Shadow
Find
Come

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It hurts not the tongue to give fair words.
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You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live
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Man, proud man, drest in a little brief authority, most ignorant of what he's most assur d, glassy essence, like an angry ape, plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, as make the angels weep.
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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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The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
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Much rain wears the marble.
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The Hebrew will turn Christian he grows kind.
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In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond.
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Thoughts are but dreams till their effects are tried.
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And do so, love, yet when they have devised What strainèd touches rhetoric can lend, Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathized In true plain words by thy true-telling friend And their gross painting might be better used Where cheeks need blood in thee it is abused.
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Make the upcoming hour overflow with joy, and let pleasure drown the brim.
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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
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If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre.
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No worse a husband than the best of men.
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The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears soft stillness, and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony
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I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both.
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Nothing is so common as the wish to be remarkable.(attributed to)
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All hoods make not monks.
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I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
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