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You may my Glories and my State depose, But not my Griefes still am I King of those.
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
May
Glories
King
Kings
Glory
State
Stills
Still
States
Depose
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Every offense is not a hate at first.
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Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.
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An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
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Educated men are so impressive.
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Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.
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Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
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What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
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Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
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'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
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Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: to fear the worst oft cures the worse.
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The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
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Let's take the instant by the forward top For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time Steals ere we can effect them.
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Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means!
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I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
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If you shall marry, You give away this hand, and this is mine You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine You give away myself, which is known mine For I by vow am so embodied yours That she which marries you must marry me-- Either both or none.
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Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
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All thy vexations Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test here, afore heaven, I ratify this my rich gift.
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The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.
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Light seeking light doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
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To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
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