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
O God! I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams
We are such stuff as dreams are made on.
We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
Dream in light years, challenge miles, walk step by step
Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure, And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.
The king hath note of all that they intend, by interception which they dream not of.
Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death.
Dreams are the children of idled minds.
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow We are such stuff as dreams are made of.
We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously. Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream. Spoken by Bottom, Act I Sc. 2
Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.
I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
...and then, in dreaming, / The clouds methought would open and show riches / Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked / I cried to dream again.
The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.