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The heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east.
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
Golden
East
Sun
Harness
Progress
Sunrise
Team
Twilight
Heavenly
Begins
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful Mine ears, that heard her flattery nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.
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I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered.
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The soul of this man is his clothes.
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She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed She is a woman, therefore to be won.
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Would the cook were o' my mind!
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Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty.
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Oh, flatter me for love delights in praises.
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I am not mad I would to heaven I were! For then, 'tis like I should forget myself O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
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Within the book and volume of thy brain.
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But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
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This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.
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This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,Was once thought honest.
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The fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, by the moon.
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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The heavens forbid But that our loves and comforts should increase Even as our days do grow!
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He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.
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O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!
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It may do good pride hath no other glass To show itself but pride, for supple knees Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.
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Out, you tallow-face! You baggage!
William Shakespeare
The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light.
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