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What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye
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
Mines
Mine
High
Eye
Makes
Cannot
Power
Mounts
Love
Feed
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O for a horse with wings!
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Our content Is our best having.
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To be, or not to be, that is the question.
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When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy, over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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Time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will.
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But love that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offense, Crying, 'That's good that's gone.
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The Devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape.
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If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not
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Honor, riches, marriage-blessing Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you!
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How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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It was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common.
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A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting The perfume and suppliance of a minute No more.
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You are thought here to the most senseless and fit man for the job.
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If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, The one's for use, the other useth it.
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Now the time is come, That France must veil her lofty-plumed crest, And let her head fall into England's lap.
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Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view.
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I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.
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