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Hardness ever of hardness is mother.
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
Tyranny
Mother
Ever
Hardness
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I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
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I would give all of my fame for a pot of ale and safety.
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To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
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And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
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Now my charms are all o'erthrown.
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Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affection, Figures pedantical--these summer flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
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Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
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The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
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Cowards die many times before their deaths The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
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RUMOUR: Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
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I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.
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Love asks me no questions, and gives me endless support.
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To saucy doubts and fears.
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O Death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
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Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.
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Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure, And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.
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