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The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.
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
Snatches
Thief
Thieves
Pale
Sun
Moon
Fire
Arrant
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They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.
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Mean and mighty, rotting Together, have one dust.
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By being seldom seen, I could not stir But like a comet I was wondered at.
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
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Robust grass endures mighty winds loyal ministers emerge through ordeal.
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To be once in doubt Is once to be resolved.
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An envious fever of pale and bloodless emulation.
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Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
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Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars That make ambition virtue.
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Beware the ides of March.
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Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty Calls virtue hypocrite takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And sets a blister there makes marriage vows As false as dicers' oaths.
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Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
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