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for my grief's so great That no supporter but the huge firm earth Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. (Constance, from King John, Act III, scene 1)
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
Kings
Sorrows
Sorrow
Thrones
Scene
Supporter
Hold
Bows
Huge
Firm
Earth
John
Come
King
Constance
Great
Grief
Throne
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He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
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When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover.
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See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He that but fears the thing he would not know, Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes, That what he feared is chanced.
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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser.
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For conspiracy, I know not how it tastes, though it be dished For me to try how.
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Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
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Tis often seen Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds A native slip to us from foreign lands.
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Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
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Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
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Examine well your blood.
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Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
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I am now of all humors that have showed themselves humors since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
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Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
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Heaven is above all yet there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
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Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.
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Although the last, not least.
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