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Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
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
Neighbor
Revel
Kind
Commit
Newest
Way
Murder
Purge
Dance
Confines
Sin
Scum
Oldest
Drink
Swear
Ruffian
Ways
Sins
Delinquency
Night
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A grandma's name is little less in love than is the doting title of a mother.
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That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
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Come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them.
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To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
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Better be with the dead, Whom we to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.
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Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
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I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
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And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
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Behold the threaden sails, Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, Breasting the lofty surge
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Most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath.
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Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole.
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There's many a man hath more hair than wit.
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The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.
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Love is . . . a madness most discreet
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Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness.
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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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See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
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These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights, that give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit of their shining nights than those that walk and know not what they are.
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