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O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
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
Thou
Conscience
Afflict
Dost
Coward
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An overflow of good converts to bad.
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It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion and all made of wishes, All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience and impatience, All purity, all trial, all observance
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Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.
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O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion, And having that do choke their service up Even with the having. . . .
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Death lies on her like an untimely frost.
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If money go before, all ways do lie open.
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I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
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Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.
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O comfort-killing night, image of hell, Dim register and notary of shame, Black stage for tragedies and murders fell, Vast sin-concealing chaos, nurse of blame!
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Tongues I'll hang on every tree That shall civil sayings show. . . .
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My crown is in my heart, not on my head not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
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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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Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!
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I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.
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The native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought and enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.
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Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked?
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My master hath been an honorable gentleman tricks he hath had in him which gentlemen have.
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For I can raise no money by vile means.
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Be not afraid of greatness.
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You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live
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