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
And where two waging fires meet togetherThey do consume the thing that feeds their fury.Though little fire grows great with little wind,Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.
A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
Against love's fire fear`s frost hath dissolution
This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o-erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.
I am ashes where I once was fire, And the bard in my bosom is dead; What I loved I now merely admire, And my heart is as grey as my head.
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire; that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
Temptation is the fire that brings up the scum of the heart.
These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
the fire seven times tried this; seven times tried that judgement is that did never choose amiss some there be that shadows kiss; such have but a shadows bliss, there be fool alive, i wis silverd o'er, and so was this Take what wife you will to bed I will ever be your head. So be gone; you are sped.
One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.
Too much of water hast thou poor Ophelia, and therefore I forbid my tears. But yet it is our trick, let shame say what it will. when these are gone the women will be out! Adieu my lord, I have a speech of fire that fane would blaze, But that this folly doubts it.
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
. . . I am bound upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears do scald like molten lead.