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My love is thine to teach teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn. Any hard lesson that may do thee good.

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
Love
Thee
Lessons
Teaching
Teach
Learn
Shalt
May
Thine
Hard
Lesson
Good
Thou

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And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, — I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
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I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks.
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A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
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Each present joy or sorrow seems the chief.
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Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death the memory be green.
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Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
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Nay, had I pow'r, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.
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Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
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You shall more command with years than with your weapons.
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Nor aught so good but strained from that fair use, Revolts from true birth stumbling on abuse.
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Honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
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A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
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The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove.
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An old black ram is tupping your white ewe
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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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You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life.
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Literature is a comprehensive essence of the intellectual life of a nation.
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The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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