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By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate And with my hand I seal my true heart's love
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
Love
Seals
Hand
Heaven
Hate
True
Hands
Soul
Grudging
Heart
Seal
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The fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she's fallen out with her husband.
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A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant.
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What, shall one of us, That struck for the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
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Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.
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A woman's fitness comes by fits.
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You must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.
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I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face.
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How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
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Who can control his fate?
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I prithee gentle friend, Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passions, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace.
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Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?
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Is she kind as she is fair?
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'Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.
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A peevish self-willed harlotry it is. *She’s a stubborn little brat.*
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If little faults proceeding on distemper Shall not be winked at, how shall we stretch our eye When capital crimes, chewed, swallowed, and digested, Appear before us?
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Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means!
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Blessings of your heart, you brew good ale.
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Hardness ever of hardness is mother.
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The heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east.
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