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
Too much to know is to know naught but fame.
Time hath a wallet at his back, wherein he puts. Alms for oblivion, a great-sized monster of ingratitudes.
I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.
Let come what will, I mean to bear it out, And either live with glorious victorie, Or die with fame renown'd for chivalrie: He is not worthy of the honey-comb, That shuns the hives because the bees have stings
Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
I would not lose so great an honor As one man more methinks would share with me For the best hope I have.
The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
By being seldom seen, I could not stir But like a comet I was wondered at.
Celebrity is never more admired than by the negligent.
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
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.
The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief: He robs himself that spends a bootless grief