Quote

And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once That makes ingrateful man!

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
Thou
Shaking
Vaunt
Destruction
Thunder
Moulds
Makes
Flat
Thunderbolts
Nature
Flats
Lear
Men
Cracks
Spill
World
Strike
Mould
Thick
Spills
Strikes
Crack

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Love asks me no questions, and gives me endless support.
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If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, And all this day an unaccustomed spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
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The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.
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They that have voice of lions and act of hares,--are they not monsters?
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What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?
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I scorn you, scurvy companion.
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Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
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Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
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With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.
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O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do.
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Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
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You have witchcraft in your lips
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Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world.
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Costly thy habit [dress] as thy purse can buy But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
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Virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
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Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
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To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience, and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation: To this point I stand,-- That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come what comes only I'll be reveng'd.
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