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If you be King, why should not I succeed?
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
King
Kings
Succeed
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Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
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Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
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You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.
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My love is deep the more I give to thee, the more I have, both are infinite.
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And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
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Let the galled jade wince our withers are unwrung.
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Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, Ang'ring itself and others.
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Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
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Like Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling Extremity out of act.
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Never he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies.
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He's loved of the distracted multitude, who like not in their judgement, but their eyes.
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Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
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So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone.
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Death-counterfeiting sleep.
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Let no such man be trusted.
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The curse of marriage That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites!
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A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers.
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The object of Art is to give life a shape.
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But here's the joy: my friend and I are one, Sweet flattery!
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I would with such perfection govern, sir, T'excel the golden age.
William Shakespeare