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Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there?
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
Sense
Modesty
May
Betray
Enough
Ground
Waste
Raze
Shall
Lightness
Evil
Sanctuary
Woman
Evils
Desire
Pitch
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A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' th' forest, A motley fool! a miserable world! As I do live by food, I met a fool Who laid him down and basked him in the sun And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.
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Prosperity's the very bond of love.
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But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike.
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But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' Stuck in my throat.
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Ay beauty's princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.
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Love does not see with the eyes, but with the soul.
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Is not the truth the truth?
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Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated
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In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
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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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Journeys end in lovers meeting.
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I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
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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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