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New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let em be unmanly), yet are followed.
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
Never
Unmanly
Ems
Customs
Followed
Ridiculous
Fashion
Though
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Why, then the world ’s mine oyster, Which I with sword will open.
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It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
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And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.
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Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!
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God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
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Let the sap of reason quench the fire of passion.
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Cursed be he that moves my bones.
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She dreams of him that has forgot her love You dote on her that cares not for your love. 'Tis pity love should be so contrary And thinking of it makes me cry 'alas!
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This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.
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I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
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Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
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But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
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An overflow of good converts to bad.
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My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind So flew'd, so sanded their heads are hung with ears that sweep away the morning dew.
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Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?
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O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven keep me in temper I would not be mad!
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And send him many years of sunshine days!
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
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An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye Give him a little earth for charity!
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Is this a vision? Is this a dream? Do I sleep?
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