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Silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
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
Neat
Tongue
Silence
Commendable
Maid
Dried
Maids
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Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.
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...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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One sin, I know, another doth provoke. Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke.
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In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.
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Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
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Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?
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Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
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My love is deep the more I give to thee, the more I have, both are infinite.
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Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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Life... is a paradise to what we know of death.
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Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
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Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
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Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
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Foul whisp'rings are abroad.
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Reflection is the business of man a sense of his state is his first duty: but who remembereth himself in joy? Is it not in mercy then that sorrow is allotted unto us?
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Promising is the very air o' the time it opens the eyes of expectation.
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