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My chastity's the jewel of our house, bequeathed down from many ancestors.
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
Chastity
Jewels
Ancestors
Ancestor
House
Many
Bequeathed
Jewel
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Haste is needful in a desperate case.
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As good luck would have it.
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So far be distant and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end
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When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies.
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Affection is a coal that must be cooled else, suffered, it will set the heart on fire.
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When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
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Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
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Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
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Finish, good lady the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark.
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There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.
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Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty.
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As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark...so many a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.
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Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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Nor shall this peace sleep with her but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new-create another heir As great in admiration as herself.
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How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
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Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
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Rashly, And praised be rashness for it--let us know, Our indiscretion sometime serves us well When our deep plots do pall, and that should learn us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will
William Shakespeare
I see men's judgments are A parcel of their fortunes and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike.
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Proper deformity shows not in the fiend So horrid as in woman.
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