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Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.
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
Stepping
Modesty
Bounds
Love
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An envious fever of pale and bloodless emulation.
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The present eye praises the present object.
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A rotten case abides no handling.
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Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
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To pore upon a book, to seek the light of truth.
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Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, Too far in years to be a pupil now.
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I am declined Into the vale of years.
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There is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman than report of valor.
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Things past redress are now with me past care
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We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
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World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee/ Life would not yield to age.
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