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Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
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
Seem
War
Fear
Seems
Time
Tyrants
Kiss
Tyranny
Kissing
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Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
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Small things make base men proud.
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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 is well ended, if the suit be won.
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They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
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Even as one heat another heat expels, or as one nail by strength drives out another, so the remembrance of my former love is by a newer object quite forgotten.
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The love of wicked men converts to fear That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both To worthy danger and deserved death.
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My way of life Is fall'n into the sear and yellow leaf.
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A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity but you gods will give us Some faults to make us men.
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Et tu Brute! (You too, Brutus!)
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Mean and mighty, rotting Together, have one dust.
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One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
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I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please, for so fools have.
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The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush.
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Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own read.
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Then with the losers let it sympathize, For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
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Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
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Never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.
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Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
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