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A maiden hath no tongue--but thought.
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
Maiden
Maidens
Hath
Tongue
Thought
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To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
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How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
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Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue.
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O, beware, my lord, of jealousy It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.
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I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
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An envious fever of pale and bloodless emulation.
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All the world's a stage, and all the men and women mearly players.
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All dark and comfortless.
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Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
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O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!
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O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!
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Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma or a hideous dream.
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