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I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
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
Pardon
Forgiveness
Shall
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It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing.
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He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends.
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Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel then what should war be?
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What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?
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One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.
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Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou Fortune's champion, that dost never fight But where her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety.
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Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try.
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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear
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The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.
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But there is no such man for, brother, men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel but, tasting it, Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air and agony with words.
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The quality of mercy is not strained
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind.
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I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
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You know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go.
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You are not wood, you are not stones, but men.
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Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away
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The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.
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Strong reasons make strong actions let us go If you say ay, the king will not say no.
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If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
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