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
I do not set my life at a pin's fee, And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear.
Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition: Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away.
Truly the souls of men are full of dread: Ye cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily and full of fear.
I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part of this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.
I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; And if I die no soul will pity me: And wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself?
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.
Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly at your service
I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.
Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none. This above all: to thine own self be true. No legacy is so rich as honesty. Brevity is the soul of wit
There is no creature loves me; And if I die, no soul will pity me.
I do know when the blood burns, how prodigal the soul lends the tongue vows.