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That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.

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
Times
Bounds
Hands
Accounts
Thought
Slave
Vassal
Firsts
Stay
Forbid
First
Control
Crave
Heart
Hand
Leisure
Made
Pleasure
Account
Love
Hours
Bound

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He is white-livered and red-faced.
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Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow.
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Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary
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Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods, Nettled and stung with pismires[nettles], when I hear Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
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Men that hazard all Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
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Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
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The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.
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With caution judge of probability. Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, experience oft hath proved to be true.
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness.
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After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
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she shall scant show well that now shows best.
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What, shall one of us, That struck for the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
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Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, Expell'd remorse and nature, who, with Sebastian- Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong- Would here have kill'd your king, I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art.
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Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
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I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered.
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The insolence of office.
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You speak like a green girl / unsifted in such perilous circumstances.
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