Quote

My dear, dear Lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation that away Men are but gilded loan or painted clay... Mine honor is my life both grow in one Take honor from me, and my life is done.

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
Grow
Afford
Grows
Mortals
Spotless
Lord
Reputation
Gilded
Times
Treasure
Purest
Away
Dear
Loan
Take
Mines
Painted
Done
Mine
Clay
Men
Honor
Mortal

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Trip over love, you can get up. Fall in love and you fall forever. Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart. Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
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In persons grafted in a serious trust, Negligence is a crime.
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This act is an ancient tale new told And, in the last repeating, troublesome, Being urged at a time unseasonable.
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Yes, faith it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please me.
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Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek.
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My charity is outrage, life my shame And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage!
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Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.
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O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
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Much rain wears the marble.
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I love thee none but thee, and thou deservest it
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Prophet may you be! If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, when time is old and hath forgot itself, when waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy, and blind oblivion swallowed cities up, and mighty states characterless are grated to dusty nothing, yet let memory, from false to false, among false maids in love, upbraid my falsehood!
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What I have done is yours what I have to do is yours being part in all I have, devoted yours.
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Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
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Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
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O that men's ears should be To counsel deaf but not to flattery!
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...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
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When holy and devout religious men are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence so sweet is zealous contemplation.
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He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends.
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My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
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