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Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
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
Wit
Fats
Eating
Bits
Quite
Dainty
Rich
Wits
Make
Ribs
Lean
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God grant us patience!
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Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
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He hath disgrac'd me and hind'red me half a million laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated my enemies. And what's his reason? I am a Jew.
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Look, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east! Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tip-toe on the misty mountain-tops.
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We have some salt of our youth in us.
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What's the news? None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest, Then is doomsday near.
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When I waked, I cried to dream again
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Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead!
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Thus can the demigod Authority Make us pay down for our offense by weight The words of heaven on whom it will, it will, On whom it will not, so: yet still 'tis just.
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I am asham'd that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace.
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Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.
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While he was drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed.
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Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.
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But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
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How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!
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When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious And Brutus is an honourable man.
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Hang those that talk of fear.
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The Dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands her service Are they inform'd of this?
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Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.— Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!
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There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond And do a willful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dressed in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity profound conceit As who should say, I am sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
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