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To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.

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
Gust
Defence
Grant
Grants
Mercy
Sin
Kill

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wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.
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Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?
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Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
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If they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground, they hate upon no better a ground
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Sometimes we are devils to ourselves When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency.
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On pain of death, no person be so bold.
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Give obedience where 'tis truly owed.
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Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies!
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Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.
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The apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.
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For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
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A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
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Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.— Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!
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Every why hath a wherefore.
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The breach of custom Is breach of all.
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Look on beauty, And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight, Which therein works a miracle in nature, Making them lightest that wear most of it.
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