Quote

Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.

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
Fair
Complexions
Dignity
Complexion
Seek
Cheek
Meet
Doth
Wants
Cheeks
Nothing
Sovereignty
Make
Several
Fairs
Culled

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The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season.
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O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. . . . She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomi Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep.
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wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.
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Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
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He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter.
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In right and service to their noble country.
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There is a law in each well-ordered nation To curb those raging appetites that are Most disobedient and refractory.
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Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead. Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Shore his old thread in twain.
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For the success, Although particular, shall give a scantling Of good or bad unto the general And in such indexes, although small pricks To their subsequent volumes, there is seen The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come at large.
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My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except.
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Haste is needful in a desperate case.
William Shakespeare
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When thou cam'st first, Thou strok'st me and made much of me wouldst give me Water with berries in't and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night and then I loved thee And showed thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
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Because I cannot flatter and look fair, Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, I must be held a rancorous enemy.
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Oh, injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror
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As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not (5.3.25-28).
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Then love-devouring Death do what he dare.
William Shakespeare
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But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
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I have thrust myself into this maze, Haply to wive and thrive as best I may.
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I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
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Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view.
William Shakespeare