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'll teach you differences.
My love is thine to teach; teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn. Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And asleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me must be heard of, say, I taught thee.
It is far easier for me to teach twenty what were right to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.
It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves; we are underlings.
Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous
We came into the world like brother and brother;And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
Over hill, over dale,Thorough bush, thorough brier,Over park, over pale,Thorough flood, thorough fire,I do wander everywhere.
Own more than thou showest, speak less than thou knowest.
O, what authority and show of truth can cunning sin cover itself withal!
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,As I foretold you, were all spirits andAre melted into air, into thin air:And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,The solemn temples, the great globe itself,Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolveAnd, like this insubstantial pageant faded,Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuffAs dreams are made on, and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep.
Our wills and fates do so contrary runThat our devices still are overthrown;Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
Out of my lean and low abilityI'll lend you something.