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
They may seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand And steal immortal blessing from her lips, Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.
Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth.
What wouldst thou do, old man? Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak When power to flattery bows?
A college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humor. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram?
Give me mine angle, we'll to th' river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finned fishes. My bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws; and as I draw them up, I'll think them every one an Antony, And say, 'Ah, ha! are caught!'
I can no longer live by thinking.
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended; and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many thing by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
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.
Speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words.
Let me have men about me that are fat... Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
Nay, we must think men are not gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the bridal.
Flout 'em, and scout 'em; and scout 'em, and flout 'em; / Thought is free.
And, if you love me, as I think you do, let's kiss and part, for we have much to do
Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.