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O, Thou hast damnable iteration and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint.
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
Art
Iteration
Able
Damnable
Hast
Corrupt
Saint
Thou
Indeed
War
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I have sounded the very base-string of humility.
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He hath disgrac'd me and hind'red me half a million laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated my enemies. And what's his reason? I am a Jew.
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The strawberry grows underneath the nettle And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.
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For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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For the success, Although particular, shall give a scantling Of good or bad unto the general And in such indexes, although small pricks To their subsequent volumes, there is seen The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come at large.
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Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.
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Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
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Two women placed together makes cold weather.
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Beauty within itself should not be wasted.
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Who is it that can tell me who I am?
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...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate
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My stars shine darkly over me
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