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Time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will.

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
Best
Time
Graces
Thine
Spend
Grace

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Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.
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To go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes
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I do love My country's good with a respect more tender, More holy and profound, then mine own life, My dear wife's estimate, her womb increase, And treasure of my loins.
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I do know when the blood burns, how prodigal the soul lends the tongue vows.
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Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down?
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When workmen strive to do better than well, they do confound their skill in covetousness.
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Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth
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By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust ensuing danger as, by proof, we see the waters swell before a boisterous storm.
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When Death doth close his tender dying eyes.
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Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.
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And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
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Polonius: Do you know me, my lord? Hamlet: Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
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Taste your legs, sire: put them into motion.
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If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, The one's for use, the other useth it.
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Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
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May never glorious sun reflex his beams Upon the country where you make abode! But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Environ you till mischief and despair Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves.
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Ay beauty's princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.
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Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means!
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Remuneration! O! That's the Latin word for three farthings
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To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
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