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All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! you herd of--boils and plagues Plaster you o'er that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile!
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
South
Boils
Wind
Herd
Seen
Herds
Shames
Another
Mile
Plaster
Light
Plague
Infect
May
Rome
Plagues
Miles
Plasters
Shame
Contagion
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T'is true: there's magic in the web of it.
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Lawn as white as driven snow Cyprus black as e'er was crow Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
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For grief is crowned with consolation.
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So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
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Some are born great, others achieve greatness.
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You dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.
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He that is thy friend indeed, he will help you in your need.
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Exceeds man's might: that dwells with the gods above.
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They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.
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Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest.
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Thou art a very ragged Wart.
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Falsehood falsehood cures
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the fire seven times tried this seven times tried that judgement is that did never choose amiss some there be that shadows kiss such have but a shadows bliss, there be fool alive, i wis silverd o'er, and so was this Take what wife you will to bed I will ever be your head. So be gone you are sped.
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But since the affairs of men rests still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
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These signs have marked me extraordinary, And all the courses of my life do show I am not in the roll of common men.
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Ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay It useth an enforced ceremony. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, Make gallant show and promise of their mettle But when they should endure the bloody spur, They fall their crests, and like deceitful jades Sink in the trial.
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Greatness knows itself.
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If thou couldst, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud you again.
William Shakespeare
Like one who draws the model of a house beyond his power to build it who, half through, gives o'er, and leaves his part-created cost a naked subject to the weeping clouds.
William Shakespeare
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
William Shakespeare
