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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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
Politics
Bustling
Like
Fray
Capitol
Rumor
Blows
Blow
Wind
Heard
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O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
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It is the mind that makes the body rich and as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, so honor peereth in the meanest habit.
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I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause But rather reason thus with reason fetter, Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
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Fill all thy bones with aches.
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What light through yonder window breaks?
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Trip over love, you can get up. Fall in love and you fall forever. Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart. Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
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Some say that ever 'gainst the season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad The nights are wholesome then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor wi
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Such thanks as fits a king's remembrance.
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She says I am not fair, that I lack manners She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, Were man as rare as Phoenix.
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My love is thaw'd Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
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Twas never merry world Since lowly feigning was called compliment.
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Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh And sees fast-by a butcher with an axe, But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter?
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What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee
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I have thrust myself into this maze, Haply to wive and thrive as best I may.
William Shakespeare
Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him.
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O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.
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Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
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Thanks, sir all the rest is mute.
William Shakespeare
Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
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