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What showers arise, blown with the windy tempest of my heart

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
Windy
Tempest
Blown
Showers
Arise
Heart

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One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
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There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune.
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Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
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Where is your ancient courage? You were used to say extremities was the trier of spirits That common chances common men could bear That when the sea was calm all boats alike showed mastership in floating.
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I can give the loser leave to chide.
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I am sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.
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Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning One pain is less'ned by another's anguish Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
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Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.
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And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
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Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.
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Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent.
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They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need: If thou sorrow, he will weep If thou wake, he cannot sleep: Thus of every grief in heart He with thee does bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.
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And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.
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Even through the hollow eyes of death I spy life peering.
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