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While we lie tumbling in the hay.
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
Hay
Tumbling
Lying
Love
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But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.
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For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
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You peasant swain! You whoreson malt-horse drudge!
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When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.
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This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it.
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No sooner met but they looked no sooner looked but they loved no sooner loved but they sighed no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage.
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I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
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Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
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Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
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Benvolio- By my head, here come the Capulets. Mercutio- By my heel, I care not.
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Appetite, a universal wolf.
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Good with out evil is like light with out darkness which in turn is like righteousness whith out hope.
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where To lie in cold obstrution and to rot This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
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Fall Greeks fail fame honour or go or stay My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
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Let fancy still in my sense in Lethe steep If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
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Let me say amen betimes lest the devil cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.
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This act is an ancient tale new told And, in the last repeating, troublesome, Being urged at a time unseasonable.
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