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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.

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
Full
Blown
Term
Flies
Spruce
Three
Precise
Maggot
Phrases
Silken
Affection
Hyperbole
Summer
Maggots
Figures
Ostentation
Terms
Piled

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Men should be what they seem.
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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Eternity was in our lips and eyes.
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Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear and from the tents The armorers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation.
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How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
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Why, headstrong liberty is lashed with woe. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky.
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If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
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Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash ’tis something, nothing ’twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
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Tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home.
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Of all knowledge the wise and good seek most to know themselves.
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Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, Shall win my love.
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Let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.
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O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours with Time's deformed hand Have written strange defeatures in my face. But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?
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How well he's read, to reason against reading!
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Romeo: Courage, man the hurt cannot be much. Mercutio: No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
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Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might. Whoever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight.
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I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking.
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