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Ambition, the soldier's virtue.
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
Soldier
Ambition
Military
Virtue
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My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me!
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On pain of death, no person be so bold.
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Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter!
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Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.
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Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.
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I have heard of your paintings too, well enough God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another.
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To be furious, is to be frighted out of fear.
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However wickedness outstrips men, it has no wings to fly from God.
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me
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Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
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Words are easy, like the wind Faithful friends are hard to find.
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Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, Shall win my love.
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I love you more than word can wield the matter, Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty
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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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Ay, is it not a language I speak?
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Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied.
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In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.
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Within the book and volume of thy brain.
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