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The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.
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
World
Wrens
Perch
Eagles
Prey
Grown
Dare
Make
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Love is . . . a madness most discreet
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Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands, But more when envy breeds unkind division: There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
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I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me.
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Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of Our human generation you shall find.
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I hold my peace, sir? no No, I will speak as liberal as the north Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.
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These times of woe afford no time to woo.
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I can hardly forbear hurling things at him.
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The wheel is come full circle.
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For a noble heart, the most precious gift becomes poor, when the giver stops loving.
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Patch up thine old body for heaven.
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Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars That make ambition virtue.
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Give me a bowl of wine, In this I bury all unkindness.
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But since the affairs of men rests still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
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Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you
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O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip Hath virgined it e'er since.
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Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition: Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away.
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A very honest woman but something given to lie
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Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.
William Shakespeare
It is the witness still of excellency to put a strange face on his own perfection.
William Shakespeare
