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
For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
But that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from who bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than to fly to others that we know not of?
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
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, action nor utterance, nor the power of speech, to stir men's blood. I only speak right on. I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
And nothing can we call our own but deathAnd that small model of the barren earthWhich serves as paste and cover to our bones.For God's sake, let us sit upon the groundAnd tell sad stories of the death of kings.
woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see
And too soon Marred are those so early Made.
There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
No matter where; of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth
Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough.
In such business Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant More learned than the ears.
Sweets to the sweet.
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear.
what cannot be saved when fate takes, patience her injury a mockery makes