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Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.
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
Much
Ophelia
Forbid
Hast
Thou
Tears
Therefore
Poor
Water
Adieu
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I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
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The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you The malice towards you to forgive you.
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No visor does become black villainy so well as soft and tender flattery.
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The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down.
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Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes.
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Beware Of entrance to a quarrel but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy rich, not gaudy For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
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If she be not honest, chaste, and true, there's no man happy.
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Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this for it will come to pass That every braggart will be found an ass.
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Wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
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Cowards die many times before their deaths the valiant never taste of death but once.
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When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.
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For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger At whose approach ghosts wandring here and there Troop home to church-yards.... For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully exile themselves from light, And must for aye consort with black brow'd night.
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When our actions do not, our fears make us traitors.
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He that is thy friend indeed, he will help you in your need.
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Every thing that grows / Holds in perfection but a little moment.
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The apparel oft proclaims the man.
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No profit grows where no pleasure is taken.
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Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated
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O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.
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