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Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes

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
Quality
Beneath
Heaven
Twice
Upon
Gentle
Place
Mercy
Shylock
Giving
Rain
Blest
Things
Kill
Merchants
Men
Gives
Venice
Love
Takes
Strain

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Shall we upon the footing of our land Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce, To arms invasive?
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'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
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The man that hath no music in himself
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Base is the slave that pays.
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Should the poor be flattered? No let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, and crook the pregnant hinges of the knee where thrift may follow fawning.
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My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
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And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.
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Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir.
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The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to.
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Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.
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The gallantry of his grief did put me into a towering passion.
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How use doth breed a habit in a man.
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Silence is the perfect herald of joy.
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Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
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O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
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Use almost can change the stamp of nature.
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It is not night when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you in my respect are all the world: Then how can it be said I am alone, When all the world is here to look on me?
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For they are yet ear-kissing arguments.
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What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate I am a gentleman.
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Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
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