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Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But like a thrifty goddess she determines Herself the glory of a creditor,Both thanks and use.

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
Issues
Smallest
Thrifty
Use
Touched
Finely
Spirit
Excellence
Scruples
Nature
Thanks
Creditors
Never
Spirituality
Lends
Like
Determine
Determines
Glory
Goddess
Scruple
Fine
Spirits
Creditor

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If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage.
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But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike.
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Tis better using France than trusting France Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas, Which He hath given for fence impregnable, And with their helps only defend ourselves In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.
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For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas
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O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip Hath virgined it e'er since.
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Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none. This above all: to thine own self be true. No legacy is so rich as honesty. Brevity is the soul of wit
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Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden.
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So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven, Visit her face' too roughly.
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By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.
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The Eyes are the window to your soul
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All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus There is no virtue like necessity.
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Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might. Whoever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight.
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Let life be short, else shame will be too long.
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Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
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For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood.
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Nice customs curtsy to great kings.
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No visor does become black villainy so well as soft and tender flattery.
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Silence is the perfect herald of joy.
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