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Unquiet meals make ill digestions.

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
Unquiet
Digestion
Meals
Ill
Eating
Make

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Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Nor age so eat up my invention, Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, But they shall find awaked in such a kind Both strength of limb and policy of mind, Ability in means, and choice of friends, To quit me of them throughly.
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In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow
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Trust not your daughter's minds By what you see them act.
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A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity but you gods will give us Some faults to make us men.
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There live not three good men unhanged in England and one of them is fat and grows old.
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Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity In least speak most, to my capacity.
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How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
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That is honor's scorn Which challenges itself as honor's born And is not like the sire. Honors thrive When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers.
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What freezings I have felt, what dark days seen, What old December's bareness everywhere!
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Come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them.
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A dream itself is but a shadow.
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I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
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Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee? BEATRICE Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. BENEDICK O, stay but till then! BEATRICE 'Then' is spoken fare you well now... (Much Ado About Nothing)
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This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas And utters it again when God doth please: He is wit's pedler and retails his wares.
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We are not the first Who with best meaning have incurred the worst
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It is the mind that makes the body rich and as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, so honor peereth in the meanest habit.
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Each present joy or sorrow seems the chief.
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Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane, Drink off this potion!
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When law can do no right, Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong.
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He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.
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