Quote

How slow This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires, Like to a stepdame, or a dowager, Long withering out a young man's revenue.

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
Long
Lingers
Men
Withering
Like
Revenue
Desires
Slow
Moon
Desire
Dowager
Young
Wanes

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Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again And make poor England weep in streams of blood! Let them not live to taste this land's increase That would with treason wound this fair land's peace! Now civil wounds are stopped, peace lives again: That she may long live here, God say amen!
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Twas a clever quibble. Here, a garment for it.
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O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
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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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I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born.
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In struggling with misfortunes lies the true proof of virtue.
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For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
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Crabbed age and youth cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care.
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He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf.
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Oh God! that one might read the book of fate, And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea.
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I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand As is a man were author of himself And knew no other kin.
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Love is too young to know what conscience is.
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What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.
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