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Silence is the perfect herald of joy.
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
Herald
Silence
Joy
Perfect
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The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to.
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Do not banish reason for inequality but let your reason serve to make the truth appear where it seems hid, and hide the false seems true.
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Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
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Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
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The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
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A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd, Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame.
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All furnished, all in arms All plum'd like estridges that with the wind Bated like eagles having lately bathed Glittering in golden coats like images As full of spirit as the month of May And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
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It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
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Under loves heavy burden do I sink. --Romeo
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I doubt not then but innocence shall makeFalse accusation blush, and tyrannyTremble at patience.
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To be furious, is to be frighted out of fear.
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Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.
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Nimble thought can jump both sea and land.
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Come, swear it, damn thyself, lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee therefore be double-damned, swear,--thou art honest.
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What is aught but as 'tis valued?
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What a fool honesty is.
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Pray, do not mock me. I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
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One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
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What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young son, it argues a distemper'd head So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.
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O that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused!
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