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What fates impose, that men must needs abide it boots not to resist both wind and tide.
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
Tides
Resist
Boots
Fate
Wind
Fates
Must
Abide
Needs
Tide
Men
Impose
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Will Fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest terms?
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A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us His dew falls everywhere.
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Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?
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In a false quarrel there is no true valor.
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Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine.
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If you would persuade, you must appeal to interest rather than intellect. We are advertis'd by our loving friends.
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There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
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There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is. ~William Shakespeare
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For my own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
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Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
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I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good.
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I'll look to like if looking, liking move.
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I hold my peace, sir? no No, I will speak as liberal as the north Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
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Let's all cry peace, freedom, and liberty!
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JAQUES: Rosalind is your love's name? ORLANDO: Yes, just. JAQUES: I do not like her name. ORLANDO: There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.
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Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' season Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors, Which some call nature's bastards.
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We all are men, in our own natures frail, and capable of our flesh few are angels.
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More matter with less art.
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We will meet and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously.
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
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