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Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won?
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
Ever
Love
Wooed
Humour
Woman
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Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
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Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls Conscience is but a work that cowards use, Devised at first to keep the strong in awe: Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law!
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Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
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Eternity was in our lips and eyes.
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I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.
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Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death.
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For you and I are past our dancing days.
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Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.
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Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
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For mine own part, it was Greek to me.
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An two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind.
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Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
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Brevity is the soul of wit.
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Tis a blushing shame-faced spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom. It fills a man full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold that (by chance) I found. It beggars any man that keeps it.
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But she makes hungry Where she most satisfies.
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We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars as if we were villians by compulsion.
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Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
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You are my true and honourable wife As dear to me as the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart.
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The man that hath no music in himself
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