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For a noble heart, the most precious gift becomes poor, when the giver stops loving.
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
Stops
Precious
Noble
Loving
Gift
Becomes
Poor
Heart
Giver
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I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation.
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Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity?
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God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
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The wheel is come full circle.
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Some report a sea-maid spawn'd him some that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that when he makes water his urine is congealed ice.
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Speak comfortable words.
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I have touched the highest point of all my greatness.
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So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
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You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.
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Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
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Let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.
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Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
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For naught so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give.
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Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
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Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
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