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Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
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
Take
Empathy
Giving
Ears
Polonius
Every
Judgment
Ophelia
Men
Advice
Horatio
Listening
Censure
Understanding
Thine
Voice
Reserve
Give
Reserves
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How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
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Graze on my lips and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
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Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops. Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.
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Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
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Few things loves better Than to abhor himself.
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I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
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Sin will pluck on sin.
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What, keep a week away? Seven days and nights, Eightscore-eight hours, and lovers' absent hours More tedious than the dial eightscore times! O weary reckoning!
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Wisdom and fortune combating together, If that the former dare but what it can, No chance may shake it.
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Since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it and therefore never floutat me for what I have said against it for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
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Nature does require her times of preservation.
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What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee
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He that filches from me my good name robs me of that which enriches him and makes me poor indeed.
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England is safe, if true within itself.
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Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
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Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live regist'red upon our brazen tombs And then grace us in the disgrace of death When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, Th' endeavor of this present breath may buy That honor which shall bate his scythe's keen edge And make us heirs of all eternity.
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We will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
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Put on The dauntless spirit of resolution.
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The presence of a king engenders love Amongst his subjects, and his royal friends.
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I can hardly forbear hurling things at him.
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