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
When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.
I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.
Some men there are love not a gaping pig, some that are mad if they behold a cat, and others when the bagpipe sings I the nose cannot contain their urine.
O world, world! thus is the poor agent despised. O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavor be so loved, and the performance so loathed?
A gentleman that loves to hear himself talk, will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
To business that we love we rise betime, and go to't with delight.
When love begins to sicken and decay it uses an enforced ceremony.
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
Ay, is it not a language I speak?
Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue.
My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where 'tis spoken.
Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee.
Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper, as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us 't were all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor - Both thanks and use.