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Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.

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
Conjectures
Jealousies
Rumours
Conjecture
Rumor
Blown
Pipe

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Fortune is painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind.
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Come, swear it, damn thyself, lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee therefore be double-damned, swear,--thou art honest.
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Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.
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Love's stories written in love's richest books. To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
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What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*
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Ay, is it not a language I speak?
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What else may hap, to time I will commit.
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Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
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Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
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Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
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The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
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Press not a falling man too far 'tis virtue: His faults lie open to the laws let them, Not you, correct him.
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Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear
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No .... holy father, throw away that thought. Believe not that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a complete bosom.
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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
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I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, Too far in years to be a pupil now.
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A college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humor. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram?
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A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish.
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A virtuous and a Christianlike conclusion-- To pray for them that have done scathe to us.
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Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose to the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, and in the calmest and most stillest night, with all appliances and means to boot, deny it to a king?
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