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Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.

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
Fills
Pouring
Entertain
Vessel
Poring
Wide
Murmur
Dark
Creeping
Universe
Conjecture
Time
Chorus

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The prize of all too precious you.
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How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
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The benediction of these covering heavens Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy To inlay heaven with stars.
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Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.
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Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
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Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain
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Grief makes one hour ten.
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Make use of time, let not advantage slip Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.
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One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.
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Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity
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Why should we rise because 'tis light? Did we lie down because t'was night?
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T'is true: there's magic in the web of it.
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Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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I am not of that feather, to shake off my friend when he must need me
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To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy.
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