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So now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine, Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.

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
Still
Sad
Self
Restore
Sadness
Thou
Mortgaged
Mines
Confessed
Mine
Forfeit
Comfort
Wilt
Stills
Thine

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Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy.
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We suffer a lot the few things we lack and we enjoy too little the many things we have.
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Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try.
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... And death unloads thee.
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T'is true: there's magic in the web of it.
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Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week, Or if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
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I am not of that feather, to shake off my friend when he must need me
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Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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