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There is none of my uncle's marks upon you he taught me how to know a man in love in which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.
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
None
Rushes
Taught
Cage
Sure
Uncle
Upon
Cages
Men
Uncles
Love
Marks
Prisoner
Mark
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He that dies this year is quit for the next.
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The Hebrew will turn Christian he grows kind.
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Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
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O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.
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These violent delights have violent ends.
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How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
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All the world's a stage ... and you better have a zoning variance or it's coming down.
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Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, meeting the check of such another day.
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The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby, Knowing that with the shadow of his wings He can at pleasure stint their melody: Even so mayest thou the giddy men of Rome.
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O how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have, and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again.
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Well, God's above all and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
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No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape back- wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
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All that glisters is not gold Often have you heard that told.
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One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.
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These words are razors to my wounded heart.
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Are you up to your destiny?
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The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.
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Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
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To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.
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One pain is lessened by another's anguish.
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