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As a walled town is more worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a married man more honorable than the bare brow of a bachelor.
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
Men
Foreheads
Bare
Worthier
Honorable
Walled
Village
Bachelor
Town
Bachelors
Towns
Brow
Married
Forehead
Marriage
Brows
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Unquiet meals make ill digestions.
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Fair Katherine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
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This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.
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When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will
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He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
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By that sin fell the angels.
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Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
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You are an alchemist make gold of that.
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O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
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Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
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How hard it is to hide the sparks of Nature!
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He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
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Is she kind as she is fair?
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From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
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Shall remain! Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute 'shall'?
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Virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
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This thought is as a death.
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Thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.
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You peasant swain! You whoreson malt-horse drudge!
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