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Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.
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
Rose
Flower
Four
Stalk
Love
Stalking
Roses
Romantic
Red
Lips
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I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
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My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.
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I say, without characters, fame lives long.
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Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your dispositions to be married It is an honor that I dream not of
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I have nothing Of woman in me now from head to foot I am marble-constant.
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I stalk about her door, like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for waftage.
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This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property ordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings.
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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
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He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
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I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
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Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.
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And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
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Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me.
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The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep and leapt them over.
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Let's teach ourselves that honorable stop, Not to outsport discretion.
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