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A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.
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
Plague
Sadness
Blow
Grief
Men
Like
Sighing
Bladder
Blows
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Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
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O that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused!
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The venom clamours of a jealous woman poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
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The last taste of sweets is sweetest last.
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Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.
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It will have blood, they say blood will have blood.
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The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
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Then to Silvia let us sing that Silvia is excelling. She excels each mortal thing upon the dull earth dwelling.
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You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.
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Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him in my heart's core, in my heart of heart, as I do thee.
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The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And Nature must obey necessity.
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Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet Grace must still look so.
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Good God, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy!
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Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.
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Out, you tallow-face! You baggage!
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Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
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Give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of spirit Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have.
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Well, God's above all and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
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These violent delights have violent ends And in their triump die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume
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Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
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