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Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*
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
Nice
Actually
Tyrannous
Experience
Alas
Looks
Rough
Thing
Gentle
Love
Proof
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These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately long love doth so Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
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Corruption wins not more than honesty.
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I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.
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Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands, But more when envy breeds unkind division: There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
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The truest poetry is the most feigning.
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A man I am cross'd with adversity.
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Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep.
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Frame your mind to mirth and merriment which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.
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And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.
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In jest, there is truth.
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Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings.
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I am now of all humors that have showed themselves humors since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
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The morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness.
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And ruin`d love when it is built anew, grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater
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Diseased Nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions.
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What my tongue dares not that my heart shall say
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