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Oh, injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror
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
Stills
Still
Love
Injurious
Life
Respite
Horror
Comfort
Whose
Dying
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Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.
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O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
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The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous main, Seems to cast water on the burning Bear, And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole.
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Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan The outward habit by the inward man.
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Abandon all remorse On horror's head horrors accumulate.
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O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
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You know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go.
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Give obedience where 'tis truly owed.
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Time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will.
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O, how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors.
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In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
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And blind oblivion swallowed cities up.
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A pair of star-crossed lovers.
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Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
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Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench I love her ten times more than e'er I did: O, how I long to have some chat with her!
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Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
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I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.
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Love that we cannot have is the one that lasts the longest,hurts the deepest,but feels the strongest
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O, spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
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Let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.
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