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Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long / To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
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
Gives
Forget
Speak
Art
Might
Giving
Muse
Long
Thou
Thee
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Give thanks for what you are today and go on fighting for what you gone be tomorrow
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And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
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Poor wretches that depend On greatness' favor, dream as I have done Wake, and find nothing.
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Juliet is the east and i am the sun.
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They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.
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Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant can trickle when she wounds!
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Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
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When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.
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The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove.
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Too much to know is to know naught but fame.
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A light wife doth make a heavy husband.
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Angels and ministers of grace defend us.
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Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.
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Twas never merry world Since lowly feigning was called compliment.
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Study is like the heaven's glorious sun, That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks: Small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books.
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Tis not a year or two shows us a man: They are all but stomachs, and we all but food They eat us hungerly, and when they are full They belch us.
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O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
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