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Where shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done, when the battle 's lost and won

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
Life
Rain
Battle
Meet
Shall
Lost
Three
Thunder
Play
Witch
Done
Lightning

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Ingratitude is monstrous and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude of which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
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When a father gives to his son, both laugh when a son gives to his father, both cry.
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Extremity is the trier of spirits.
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Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
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And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
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You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.
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I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well
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To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little more than a little is by much too much.
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For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.
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My pride fell with my fortunes.
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What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate I am a gentleman.
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O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip Hath virgined it e'er since.
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I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange with-out heresy.
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It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
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Too much to know is to know nought but fame And every godfather can give a name.
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What e'er thou art, act well thy part.
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thy wit is a very bitter sweeting it is a most sharp sauce.
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