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Through tattered clothes great vices do appear Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks. Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce 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
Strong
Vices
Straws
Doe
Appear
Robes
Great
Sin
Rags
Gold
Pierce
Furred
Clothes
Plate
Tattered
Arms
Plates
Lance
Justice
Breaks
Straw
Break
Hide
Gowns
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To persist in doing wrong extenuates not the wrong, but makes it much more heavy.
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I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge.
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The devil shall have his bargain for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs--he will give the devil his due.
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Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds.
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Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
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No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.
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Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
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There is nothing serious in Mortality
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In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.
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Do not speak like a death's-head, do not bid me remember mine end.
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I am misanthropos, and hate mankind, For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.
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A light wife doth make a heavy husband.
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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I would not wish any companion in the world but you.
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Free from gross passion or of mirth of anger constant spirit, not swerving with the blood, garnish'd and deck'd in modest compliment, not working with the eye without the ear, and but in purged judgement trusting neither? Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem.
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Beware the ides of March.
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Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
William Shakespeare
Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
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O world, world! thus is the poor agent despised. O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavor be so loved, and the performance so loathed?
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .
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