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My dull brain was wrought with things forgotten.
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
Dull
Forgotten
Brain
Things
Wrought
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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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As full of spirit as the month of May, and as gorgeous as the sun in Midsummer.
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Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
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When I have plucked the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither. I'll smell it on the tree.
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She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a woeful ditty How love makes young men thrall and old men dote How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, And still the choir of echoes answer so.
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That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimms, and makes it indistinct As water is in water
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Love goes toward love.
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Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
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Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition: Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away.
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Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
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