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This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
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
May
Juliet
Love
Breath
Breaths
Summer
Flower
Meet
Beauteous
Prove
Ripening
Next
Bud
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Heaven would that she these gifts should have, and I to live and die her slave.
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When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.
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One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.
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Beware Of entrance to a quarrel.
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Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.
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My only love sprung from my only hate.
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War is no strife To the dark house and the detested wife.
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Greatness knows itself.
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'Tis pride that pulls the country down.
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When once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right.
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JAQUES: Rosalind is your love's name? ORLANDO: Yes, just. JAQUES: I do not like her name. ORLANDO: There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.
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Zounds! I was never so bethumped with words since I first called my brother's father dad.
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Love is a spirit all compact of fire.
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Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers?
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