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
Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight; which therein works a miracle in Nature, making them lightest that wear most of it: so are those crisped snaky golden locks which make such wanton gambols with the wind upon supposed fairness, often known to be the dowry of a second head, the skull that bred them in the sepulchre.
Chain me with roaring bears; Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, O'er-covered quite with dead men's rattling bones, With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls; Or bid me go into a new-made grave, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; And I will do it without Fear or Doubt, To live an unstain'd Wife of my sweet Love.
Unthread the bold eye of rebellion,And welcome home again discarded faith.
Why so large a cost, having so short a lease, does thou upon your fading mansion spend?
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; When little fears grow great, great love grows there.
I swear again, I would not be a queen For all the world.
My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
You take my house when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life When you do take the means whereby I live.
Even through the hollow eyes of death I spy life peering.
The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
I see a man's life is a tedious one.
Remember thee! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe.
Ten masts make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. Thy life's a miracle.
The heavens forbid But that our loves and comforts should increase Even as our days do grow!