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
She knew her distance and did angle for me, Madding my eagerness with her restraint, As all impediments on fancy's course Are motives of more fancy; and in fine, her infinite cunning, with her modern grace Subdued me to her rate
God mark thee to His grace! Thou was the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. And might I live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
Angels and ministers of grace defend us.
He does it with better grace, but I do it more natural.
O momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
If yon bethink yourself of any crime Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it straight.
When once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right.
To some kind of men their graces serve them but as enemies.
Till all grace be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.
Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live regist'red upon our brazen tombs And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, Th' endeavor of this present breath may buy That honor which shall bate his scythe's keen edge And make us heirs of all eternity.
To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience, and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation: To this point I stand,-- That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd.
Thou hast her, France; let her be thine, for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again. Therefore be gone Without our grace, our love, our benison.
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.