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Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
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
Way
Geese
Wild
Winter
Gone
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Set your heart at rest. The fairyland buys not the child of me.
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thou art the best o' the cut-throats
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Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
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Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
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Men at some time are masters of their fates.
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Better conquest never canst thou make than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts against giddy, loose suggestions.
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Retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.
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We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
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There is a law in each well-ordered nation To curb those raging appetites that are Most disobedient and refractory.
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A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us His dew falls everywhere.
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Diseases desperate grown By desperate appliances are relieved, Or not at all.
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Love`s reason`s without reason
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Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
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Good luck lies in odd numbers.
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Some there be that shadows kiss Such have but a shadow's bliss.
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Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
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Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touched For death-like dragons here affright thee hard.
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