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But say, my lord, it were not regist'red, Methinks the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere retailed to all posterity, Even to the general all-ending day.

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
Even
Posterity
Ending
Red
General
Lord
Age
Truth
Twere
Live
Methinks

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Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Here's three on's are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself unaccommodated man is no more than such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
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What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*
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My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.
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Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
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Grief makes one hour ten.
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For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
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Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well.
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By Heaven, I love thee better than myself
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Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
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I have almost forgotten the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool’d to hear a night-shriek and my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir as life were in’t: I have supt full with horrors Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me.
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All gold and silver rather turn to dirt, An 'tis no better reckoned but of these Who worship dirty gods.
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The let-alone lies not in your good will.
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Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark?
William Shakespeare
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A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.
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Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view.
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A contract of eternal bond of love, Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, Arrested by the holy close of lips, Strength'ned by the interchangement of your rings, And all the ceremony of this compact Seal'd in my function, by my testimony.
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From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain and nourish all the world.
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Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.
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Though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy.
William Shakespeare