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Every true man's apparel fits your thief.
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
Thief
Theft
Fits
Thieves
Fit
True
Every
Men
Apparel
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Ambition's debt is paid.
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Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.
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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?
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Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm With favour never clasp'd but bred a dog.
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A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.
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The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
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Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
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Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness.
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Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
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What showers arise, blown with the windy tempest of my heart
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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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Benvolio- By my head, here come the Capulets. Mercutio- By my heel, I care not.
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