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
Beauty is all very well at first sight; but whoever looks at it when it has been in the house three days?
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, For I never saw true beauty till this night
Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I'd set my ten commandments in your face.
The most peerless piece of earth, I think, that e' er the sun shone bright on.
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say, 'This poet lies; Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'
Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour; And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.
And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.
What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god -- the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!
To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey'd, Such seems your beauty still.
Daffodils that come before the swallow dares, and takes the winds of March with beauty.
Beauty within itself should not be wasted.