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Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward To what they were before.
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
Climbs
Cease
Worst
Else
Things
Upward
Climb
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The Play's the Thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
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He was not so much brain as earwax
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Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes.
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I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
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You have but mistook me all the while... I live by bread like you, taste grief, feel want, need friends. Conditioned thus how can you call me king?
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Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on instinct.
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There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't
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I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
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Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
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I am giddy, expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense.
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To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
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This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-Paradise.
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I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
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Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
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In persons grafted in a serious trust, Negligence is a crime.
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And send him many years of sunshine days!
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Parting is such sweet sorrow
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Love is . . . a madness most discreet
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Take it in what sense thou wilt.
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What light through yonder window breaks?
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