William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare – 23 April 1616) was an English poet, playwright, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet, and the "Bard of Avon". His extant works, including collaborations, consist of approximately 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses, some of uncertain authorship. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth23 April 1564
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,For I did dream of money-bags to-night.
Those that do teach young babes, Do it with gentle means and easy tasks; He might have chid me so; for, in good faith, I am a child to chiding
Done to death by slanderous tongue
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.
There is plenty of time to sleep in the grave
Seek happy nights to happy days.W
Yet but three come one more. Two of both kinds make up four. Ere she comes curst and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad. Thus to make poor females mad.
Love is begun by time and time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth.
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; not the soldier's which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, which, by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?
for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.