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When the age is in, the wit is out
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
Wit
Age
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You are an alchemist make gold of that.
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A sad tale's best for winter. I have one of sprites and goblins.
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I have almost forgotten the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool’d to hear a night-shriek and my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir as life were in’t: I have supt full with horrors Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me.
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Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful Mine ears, that heard her flattery nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.
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This thing of darkness I acknowlege mine. There is nothing more confining than the prison we don't know we are in.
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For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
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This thought is as a death.
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Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness!
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What is more miserable than discontent?
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Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? And the creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great image of authority-a dog's obeyed in office.
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Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more Or close the wall with our English dead.
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Tush! Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate Talkers are no good doers: be assured We come to use our hands and not our tongues.
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How many cowards whose hearts are all as false As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, Who inward searched, have livers white as milk!
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O how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have, and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again.
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Mind your speech a little lest you should mar your fortunes.
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If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening.
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The very instant I saw you, did My heart fly to your service there resides To make me slave to it. ...mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want.
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A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.
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I have heard of your paintings too, well enough God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another.
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Thou hast the most unsavoury similes.
William Shakespeare
