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That which in mean men we entitle patience is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
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
Breasts
Patience
Noble
Cold
Mean
Men
Entitle
Cowardice
Pale
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We bring forth weeds when our quick minds lie still.
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Report of fashions in proud Italy Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation Limps after in base imitation
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Thus we play the fool with the time and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.
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What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.
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Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.
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The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
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As good luck would have it.
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Thus did I keep my person fresh and new, My presence, like a robe pontifical, Ne'er seen but wondered at, and so my state, Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast.
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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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For trust not him that hath once broken faith
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Press not a falling man too far 'tis virtue: His faults lie open to the laws let them, Not you, correct him.
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If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.
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Prosperity's the very bond of love, Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together Affliction alters.
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Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel then what should war be?
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The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our own virtues.
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What's the news? None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest, Then is doomsday near.
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Upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love.
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The devil knew what he did when he made men politic he crossed himself by it.
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Thou whoreson, senseless villain!
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