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Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid Fly away, fly away, breath I am slain by a fair cruel maid.

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
Fairs
Slain
Fair
Maid
Death
Maids
Away
Fairness
Come
Cruel
Laid
Breath
Breaths
Cypresses

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Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights Four nights will quickly dream away the time And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.
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When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward child understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical.
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I am asham'd that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace.
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The cunning livery of hell.
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World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee/ Life would not yield to age.
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My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
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Wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
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Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I every man to his business.
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New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let em be unmanly), yet are followed.
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For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.
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A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.
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