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Death lies on her like an untimely frost.
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
Death
Like
Untimely
Frost
Lies
Lying
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I go, I go, look how I go, swifter than an arrow from a bow
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O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
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Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.
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Heaven is above all yet there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
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Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile
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As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
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Condemn the fault and not the actor of it?
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Ruin has taught me to ruminate, That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death, which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
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Thou call'st me dog before thou hadst a cause, But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
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Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canter dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all.
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Mine eyes smell onions: I shall weep anon.
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I am your wife if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I'll be your servant Whether you will or no.
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Love is a spirit all compact of fire.
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Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where To lie in cold obstrution and to rot This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
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Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
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where civil blood makes civil hands unclean
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And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
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Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
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