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There's never a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave.
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
Never
Arrant
Knavery
Knave
Knaves
Denmark
Dwelling
Villain
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O King, believe not this hard-hearted man!
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The setting sun, and the music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in rememberance more than long things past.
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Things in motion sooner catch the eye than what not stirs.
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And I will make it felony to drink small beer.
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Hasty marriage seldom proveth well.
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That you were once unkind befriends me now, And for that sorrow, which I then did feel, Needs must I under my transgression bow, Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
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I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursued my humor not pursuing his, And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.
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Thou art a very ragged Wart.
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To be, or not to be, that is the question.
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When the age is in, the wit is out
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Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.
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O no, thy love though much, is not so great, It is my love that keeps mine eye awake, Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy sake. For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.
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Oh! it offends me to the soul to hear a robust periwig-pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings.
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Things may serve long, but not serve ever.
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Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
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Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
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When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.
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I will despair, and be at enmity With cozening hope.
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I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.(IAGO,ActI,SceneI)
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