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O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!
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
Happiness
Father
Consents
Would
Seal
Seals
Applause
Consent
Fathers
Loves
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We must not stint Our necessary actions in the fear To cope malicious censurers, which ever, As rav'nous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimmed, but benefit no further Than vainly longing.
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Love goes toward love.
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The let-alone lies not in your good will.
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What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.
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What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.
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Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
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So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.
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I love him for his sake And yet I know him a notorious liar, Think him a great way fool, solely a coward Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him That they take place when virtue's steely bones Looks bleak i' th' cold wind withal, full oft we see Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.
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Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
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O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!
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Love denied blights the soul we owe to God.
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I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
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I do desire we may be better strangers.
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And the more pity that great folk should have count'nance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their even-Christen.
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The hideous god of war.
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My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
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