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Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
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
Thou
Manner
Anger
Wanting
Sorrow
Presses
Wise
Press
Disdain
Words
Pity
Lend
Pain
Patience
Lest
Art
Tongue
Cruel
Much
Express
Tied
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Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But bad mortality o'ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
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Waste not thy time in windy argument but let the matter drop.
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We must be gentle now we are gentlemen.
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It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
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Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
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A peace is of the nature of a conquest for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.
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O my good lord, that comfort comes too late, 'Tis like a pardon after execution. That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
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You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave.
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Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.
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Say as you think and speak it from your souls.
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Hold, or cut bowstrings.
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For now I stand as one upon a rock environed with a wilderness of sea, who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, expecting ever when some envious surge will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
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She's gone. I am abused, and my relief must be to loathe her.
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One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.
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But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' Stuck in my throat.
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Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down
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Love is a spirit all compact of fire.
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Forget, forgive conclude, and be agreed.
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Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.
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