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This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.

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
Senior
Dwarves
Malcontents
Sovereign
Rhymes
Malcontent
Giants
Dwarfs
Anointed
Arms
Junior
Groans
Lord
Juniors
Dwarf
Love
Sigh
Sighs
Rhyme
Cupid
Giant
Folded

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Value dwells not in particular will It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer.
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Make use of time, let not advantage slip.
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Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.
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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.
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That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.
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What e'er thou art, act well thy part.
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Bear with my weakness. My old brain is troubled. Be not disturbed with my infirmity.
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What our contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again.
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Appetite, a universal wolf.
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O, where is loyalty? If it be banished from the frosty head, Where shall it find a harbor in the earth?
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Fear no more the heat o' th' sun Nor the furious winters' rages Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
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Knavery's plain face is never seen till used.
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Fie, fie, how frantically I square my talk!
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Give sorrow words the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
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Thou art a very ragged Wart.
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
William Shakespeare
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Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer for look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.
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I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart: but the saying is true 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound'.
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Say she rail why, I'll tell her plain She sings as sweetly as a nightingale. Say that she frown I'll say she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew. Say she be mute and will not speak a word Then I'll commend her volubility, and say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
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But virtue never will be mov'd, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven.
William Shakespeare