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
A thousand kisses buys my heart from me; And pay them at thy leisure, one by one.
It is not night when I do see your face.
But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
Haply for I am black, And have not those soft parts of conversation That chamberers have; or for I am declined Into the vale of years—yet that’s not much— She’s gone. I am abused, and my relief Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad And live upon the vapor of a dungeon Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others’ uses. Yet ’tis the plague of great ones; Prerogatived are they less than the base. ’Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.
Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime.
Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
Now join hands, and with your hands your hearts.
Love asks me no questions, and gives me endless support.
Men in rage strike those that wish them best.
In a false quarrel there is no true valor.
Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
The instruments of darkness tell us truths...