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The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good. Pity is the virtue of the law, and none but tyrants use it cruelly.
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
Law
Hath
Use
Memorable
Hands
Pity
Made
Fairs
Good
Fair
None
Virtue
Cruelly
Hand
Tyrants
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To be furious, is to be frighted out of fear.
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Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench I love her ten times more than e'er I did: O, how I long to have some chat with her!
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Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies!
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So our virtues lie in the interpretation of the time
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Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated
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There is a devilish mercy in the judge, if you'll implore it, that will free your life, but fetter you till death.
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Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose to the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, and in the calmest and most stillest night, with all appliances and means to boot, deny it to a king?
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Too nice, and yet too true!
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Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)
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Time is a very bankrupt and owes more than he's worth to season. Nay, he's a thief too: have you not heard men say, That Time comes stealing on by night and day?
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Though music oft hath such a charm to make bad good, and good provoke to harm.
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He that dies pays all debts.
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The art of our necessities is strange That can make vile things precious.
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O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.
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The strawberry grows underneath the nettle And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.
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And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
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A young man married is a man that's marred.
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I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
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Robust grass endures mighty winds loyal ministers emerge through ordeal.
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Have you not heard it said full oft, A woman's nay doth stand for naught?
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