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Every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.

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
Puts
Faults
Behinds
Behind
Another
Every
Neighbour
Men
Hanging
Bags

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However wickedness outstrips men, it has no wings to fly from God.
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The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.
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Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.
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Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more Or close the wall with our English dead.
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Never anger made good guard for itself.
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Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, And where we are our learning likewise is.
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The icy precepts of respect.
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Why what a fool was I to this drunken monster for a God. - Caliban
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All things that we ordained festival Turn from their office to black funeral-- Our instruments to melancholy bells, Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse And all things change them to the contrary.
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I thank you all and here dismiss you all, and to the love and favor of my country commit myself, my person, and the cause.
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All is well ended if this suit be won. That you express content which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day.
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Give obedience where 'tis truly owed.
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Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care.
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You are yoked with a lamb, That carries anger as the flint bears fire Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spank, And straight is cold again.
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A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff.
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A little more than kin, and less than kind.
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Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.
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But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
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