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Whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.
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
Whatever
Devours
Praises
Deed
Deeds
Praise
Pride
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Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod.
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Refrain to-night And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either master the devil or throw him out With wondrous potency.
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so full of shapes is fancy
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They say, the tongues of dying men Enforce attention, like deep harmony Where words are scarce, they're seldom spent in vain For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain.
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You dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.
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Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for thunder?
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A Loud Laugh Bespeaks a Vacant Mind!
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I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.
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I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
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How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
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We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
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The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
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Let fancy still in my sense in Lethe steep If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
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There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is. ~William Shakespeare
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You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age wretched in both.
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I shall despair. There is no creature loves me And if I die no soul will pity me: And wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself?
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Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
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QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. FLUTE Here, Peter Quince. QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisby on you. FLUTE What is Thisby? a wandering knight? QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love. FLUTE Nay, faith, let me not play a woman I have a beard coming.
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A true repentance shuns the evil itself, more than the external suffering or the shame.
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O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
William Shakespeare
