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Can it be chat modesty may more betray Our sense than woman's lightness?
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
May
Chat
Lightness
Modesty
Betray
Woman
Sense
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Death-counterfeiting sleep.
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Out of her favour, where I am in love.
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As merry as the day is long.
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I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.
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To beguile the time, look like the time.
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If she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.
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I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
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Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
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Love goes toward love.
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Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.
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Pastime passing excellent, if it he husbanded with modesty.
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Forget, forgive conclude, and be agreed.
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The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
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Things may serve long, but not serve ever.
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In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow
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