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Un-thread the rude eye of rebellion, and welcome home again discarded faith.
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
Faith
Home
Discarded
Rude
Rebellion
Thread
Welcome
Revolution
Eye
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All offences come from the heart.
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In springtime, the only pretty ring time Birds sing, hey ding A-ding, a-ding Sweet lovers love the spring—
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The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
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And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
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I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes when they are in great danger I recover them.
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And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
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Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short he tires betimes that spurs too fast.
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This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.
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The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.
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So holy and so perfect is my love, And I in such a poverty of grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop To glean the broken ears after the man That the main harvest reaps.
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To beguile the time, look like the time.
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You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave.
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Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
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Get thee to a nunnery.
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My master hath been an honorable gentleman tricks he hath had in him which gentlemen have.
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Time, whose millioned accidents creep in betwixt vows, and change decrees of kings, tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharpest intents, divert strong minds to the course of altering things.
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Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a prompter.
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Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.
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But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.
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