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One sin, I know, another doth provoke. Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke.
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
Lust
Near
Smoke
Murder
Provoke
Sin
Doth
Another
Provoking
Flame
Flames
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Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
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It is the very error of the moon She comes more nearer earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.
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The extreme parts of time extremely forms all causes to the purpose of his speed.
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A little more than kin, and less than kind.
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Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
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It is lost at dice, what ancient honor won.
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I am a kind of burr I shall stick.
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Lovers ever run before the clock
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Take it in what sense thou wilt.
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The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.
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Be collected. No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart There's no harm done.
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She moves me not, or not removes at least affection's edge in me.
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A true repentance shuns the evil itself, more than the external suffering or the shame.
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We that are true lovers run into strange capers.
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Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
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I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff, sixpenny strikers, none of these mad, mustachio purple-hued maltworms, but with nobility and tranquillity.
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Through tattered clothes great vices do appear Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks. Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
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God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.
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So, you are very welcome to our house. It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.
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