Quote

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!

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
Make
Thyself
Love
Thou
Thee
Hand
Open
White
Didst
Hands
Clap
Ever
Utter

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Love that well which thou must leave ere long.
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There is nothing so confining as the prisons of our own perceptions.
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Death lies on her like an untimely frost.
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Is not the truth the truth?
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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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And my poor fool is hanged! No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray you, undo this button.
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There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased, The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
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Season your admiration for a while.
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How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!
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Have more than you show, Speak less than you know.
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Coal-black is better than another hue In that it scorns to bear another hue For all the water in the ocean Can never turn the swan's black legs to white, Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
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Remembrance of things past.
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Stones have been known to move and trees to speak.
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O, she misused me past the endurance of a block.
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They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.
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The Eyes are the window to your soul
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