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
Beauty within itself should not be wasted.
Patience is sottish, and impatience does become a dog that's mad.
It is neither good nor bad, but thinking makes it so.
Not marble, nor the gilded monumentsOf princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.
My crown is in my heart, not in my head, Nor decked with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen; my crown is called contentment; A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
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.
My crown is in my heart, not on my head, Nor decked with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: My crown is called content: A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy.
But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament
Like to the time o' the year between the extremesOf hot and cold, he was not sad nor merry.
The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed; And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, But coward-like with trembling terror die
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies.
I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; but, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal what law does vouch mine own.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety, other women cloy