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Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops. Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.
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
Misty
Like
Candles
Melancholy
Candle
Burned
Stands
Tinged
Hope
Tiptoe
Night
Tiptoes
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Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
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Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy, To follow still the changes of the moon With fresh suspicions? No to be once in doubt Is once to be resolved.
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After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
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Then happy I that love and am beloved, where I may not remove nor be removed.
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So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by.
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Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.
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My affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.
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And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe. And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot And thereby hangs a tale.
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Thou unfit for any place but hell.
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Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs?
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I have shot mine arrow o'er the house And hurt my brother.
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But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot? Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
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Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
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They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
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If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage.
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How long a time lies in one little word?
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Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.
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Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.
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But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
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I am wealthy in my friends.
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