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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
Every
Judgment
Ophelia
Men
Advice
Horatio
Listening
Censure
Understanding
Thine
Voice
Reserve
Give
Reserves
Take
Empathy
Giving
Ears
Polonius
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Misery makes sport to mock itself.
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Would the cook were o' my mind!
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Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.
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Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipped of justice.
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What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?
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He took the bride about the neck and kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack that at the parting all the church did echo.
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So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough.
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Be cheerful wipe thine eyes: Some falls are means the happier to arise
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My prophecy is but half his journey yet, For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.
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He receives comfort like cold porridge.
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Value dwells not in particular will It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer.
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Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
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Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, bear t that th' opposed may beware of thee.
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To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature.
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I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
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Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud And after summer evermore succeeds Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
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Love is the greatest of dreams, yet the worst of nightmares.
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Let us kill all lawyers
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Cry havoc! and let loose the dogs of war, That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
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