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
Doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age
Crabbed age and youth cannot live together; Youth is full of pleasance, age full of care; Youth like the summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare
For stony limits cannot hold love out.And what love can do that dares love attempt.
We cannot fight for love as men may do; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see What petty follies they themselves commit
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit, For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy
They are but beggars that can count their worth, but my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety, other women cloy
He that is thy friend indeed,He will help thee in thy need:If thou sorrow, he will weep;If thou wake, he cannot sleep:Thus of every grief in heartHe with thee does bear a part.These are certain signs to knowFaithful friend from flattering foe.
What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, and he but naked, though locked up in steel, whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
The purest treasure mortal times afford, is spotless reputation; that away, men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
The rude sea grew civil at her song,And certain stars shot madly from their spheresTo hear the sea-maid's music.