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That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough no more: 'Tis not so sweet as it was before.
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
Came
Violet
Upon
Strain
Sound
Bank
Fall
Stealing
Enough
Breathe
Giving
Ears
Odour
Love
Dying
Violets
Like
Sweet
Breathes
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... the spring, the summer, The chilling autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries and the mazed world By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
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By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it save I alone.
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Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious Is to be frightened out of fear.
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O no, thy love though much, is not so great, It is my love that keeps mine eye awake, Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy sake. For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.
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It is meant that noble minds keep ever with their likes for who so firm that cannot be seduced.
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I will not trust you, I, Nor longer stay in your curst company. Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray, My legs are longer though, to run away.
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Robust grass endures mighty winds loyal ministers emerge through ordeal.
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That is not the best sermon which makes the hearers go away talking to one another and praising the speaker, but which makes them go away thoughtful and serious, and hastening to be alone.
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A miracle. Here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity. Beatrice: I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Benedick: Peace. I will stop your mouth.
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How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
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