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Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.

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
Good
Dead
Glass
Beauty
Spite
Within
Glasses
Hours
Hour
Pain
Flower
Physic
Lost
Cost
Blemish
Beautiful
Broken
Doubtful
Ever
Painting
Faded

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whats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin i see hath been his timeless end. oh churl drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after. i will kiss thy lips some poisin doth hang on them, to help me die with a restorative. thy lips are warm. yea noise then ill be brief oh happy dagger this is thy sheath. there rust and let me die.
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By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word approve me, lord.
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Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel then what should war be?
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But virtue never will be mov'd, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven.
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A flock of blessings light upon thy back
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Virtue preserv'd from fell destruction's blast, Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last.
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Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
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Conscience is a thousand swords.
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Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes then little strength rings out the doleful knell.
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Tears water our growth.
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Thou speak'st like him's untutored to repeat: Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.
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Where is Polonius? HAMLET In heaven. Send hither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby.
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There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail.
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Have I thought long to see this morning’s face, And doth it give me such a sight as this?
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Things past redress are now with me past care
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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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A harmless necessary cat.
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Time does not have the same appeal for every one
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I will make a Star-chamber matter of it.
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Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other side
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