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But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot? Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
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
False
Fair
Thou
Blessed
Mayst
Blot
Fears
Appreciation
Fairs
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Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.
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Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
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The sudden hand of Death close up mine eye!
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No worse a husband than the best of men.
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I wish you well and so I take my leave, I Pray you know me when we meet again.
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Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.
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O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.
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Men must learn now with pity to dispense For policy sits above conscience.
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Go to you bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.
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The native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought and enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.
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