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'Tis brief, my lord...as woman's love.

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
Lord
Woman
Love
Brief

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O God, I could be bound in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space – were it not that I have bad dreams.
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I think the King is but a man as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to me.
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But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
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In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.
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I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats If it be man's work, I'll do't.
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Falsehood falsehood cures
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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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The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
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Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.
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And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
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Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules, but beware instinct. The lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter. I was a coward on instinct.
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Be not afeard the isle is full of noises.
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Then to Silvia let us sing that Silvia is excelling. She excels each mortal thing upon the dull earth dwelling.
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It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.
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Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of Our human generation you shall find.
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I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book!
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My free drift Halts not particularly, but moves itself In a wide sea of wax no levelled malice Infects one comma in the course I hold, But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
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You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die.
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My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smothered in surmise, And nothing is but what is not.
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Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table.
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