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To die: - to sleep: No more and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.
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
Dies
Wished
Natural
Ache
Death
Shock
Ends
Flesh
Devoutly
Heart
Died
Consummation
Speech
Shocks
Thousand
Heir
Sleep
Heirs
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The one I love is the son of the one I hate! -Juliet p. 75
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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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Prosperity's the very bond of love, Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together Affliction alters.
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Master, go on, and I will follow thee To the last gasp with truth and loyalty.
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But I will be, A bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a lover's bed.
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Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, and with him rise weeping.
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Pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
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What's the news? None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest, Then is doomsday near.
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My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
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Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass but my madness speaks.
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Though men can cover crimes with bold, stern looks, poor women's faces are their own faults' books.
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I can see his pride Peep through each part of him.
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Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing.
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He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache
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We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
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As chaste as unsunned snow.
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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears soft stillness, and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony
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