William Shakespeare
People note exceptional verbal wit, psychological depth, and emotional range of English playwright and poet William Shakespeare, who included such historical works as
Richard II
, comedies like
Much Ado about Nothing
, and such tragedies as
Hamlet
,
Othello
, and
King Lear
and also composed 154 sonnets before people published posthumously
First Folio
, which collected and contained edition of 36 plays in 1623.
He and Anne Hathaway, his wife, married in 1582.
Forest of Arden, a formerly very extensive wooded area, north of Stratford-upon-Avon of central England provided the setting for
As You Like It
of Shakespeare.
People widely regard William Shakespeare (baptized 26 April 1564) as the greatest writer in the language and the pre-eminent dramatist of the world. They often call him simply the national "bard of Avon." Surviving writings consist of 38 dramas, two long narratives, and several other books. People translate them into every major living language and performed them most often.
Anne bore him Susanna Shakespeare, and twins Hamnet Shakespeare and Judith Shakespeare. Between 1585 and 1592, he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part-owner of the Lord Chamberlain's Men, the company, later known as the King's Men.
Shakespeare wrote throughout the span of his life. He started writing in 1589 and afterward averaged 1.5 dramas a year. From 1590, Shakespeare produced most of his known literature. He early mainly raised genres to the peak of sophistication and artistry before 1601. Next, he wrote mainly Macbeth and similar dramas, considered some of the finest examples in the language, until 1608. In his last phase, he wrote also known romances and collaborated until 1613.
He apparently retired to Stratford around 1613, where he died three years later on day of Saint George, his 52nd birthday. Few records of private life of Shakespeare survive with considerable speculation about such matters as his sexuality, religious beliefs, and whether he wrote all attributed literature.
People inscribed many books of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime, and in 1623, two of his former theatrical colleagues issued all but two now recognized dramas of Shakespeare. Shakespeare, the great master of language and literature authentically wrote not all that people attribute.
People respected Shakespeare in his own day, but his reputation rose to its present heights not until the nineteenth century. The romantics in particular acclaimed genius of Shakespeare, and the Victorians hero-worshiped him with a reverence that George Bernard Shaw called "bardolatry." In the 20th century, new movements in scholarship and performance repeatedly adopted and rediscovered his dramas. People consistently perform and reinterpret his highly popular dramas today in diverse cultural and political contexts throughout the world.
“This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?”
“Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee,And for thy maintenance; commits his bodyTo painful labor, both by sea and land;To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,Whilst thou li’st warm at home, secure and safe;And craves no other tribute at thy handsBut love, fair looks, and true obedience-Too little payment for so great a debt.Such duty as the subject owes the prince,Even such a woman oweth to her husband;And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,And no obedient to his honest will,What is she but a foul contending rebel,And graceless traitor to her loving lord?I asham’d that women are so simple‘To offer war where they should kneel for peace,Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,Should well agree with our external parts?”
“Why should we rise because 'tis light? Did we lie down because t'was night?”
“He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.”
“Banish'd from [those we love] Is self from self: a deadly banishment!”
“Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; The thief doth fear each bush an officer.”
“The villany you teach me I shall execute; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.”
“As full of spirit as the month of May, and as gorgeous as the sun in Midsummer.”
“How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees? Iago”
“But I am constant as the Northern Star,Of whose true fixed and resting qualityThere is no fellow in the firmament.”
“I have set my life upon a cast,And I will stand the hazard of the die.”
“So wise so young, they say, do never live long.”
“Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.”
“Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,And all their ministers attend on him.”
“Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.”
“In thy foul throat thou liest.”
“Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.”
“But shall we wear these glories for a day?Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?”
“Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.”
“The quality of mercy is not strained.It droppeth as the gentle rain from heavenUpon the place beneath. It is twice blessed:It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.'Tis mightiest in the mightiest. It becomesThe thronèd monarch better than his crown.His scepter shows the force of temporal power,The attribute to awe and majestyWherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings,But mercy is above this sceptered sway.It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings.It is an attribute to God himself.And earthly power doth then show likest God’sWhen mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this-That in the course of justice none of usShould see salvation. We do pray for mercy,And that same prayer doth teach us all to renderThe deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus muchTo mitigate the justice of thy plea,Which if thou follow, this strict court of VeniceMust needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.”
“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.”
“Thou weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath.”
“in black ink my love may still shine bright.”
“This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeits of our own behavior) we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and stars, as if we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition on the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and lecherous. I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.”
“I say, there is no darknessbut ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled thanthe Egyptians in their fog.”
“Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,Have put on black and loving mourners be,Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,Nor that full star that ushers in the even,Doth half that glory to the sober west,As those two mourning eyes become thy face:O! let it then as well beseem thy heartTo mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,And suit thy pity like in every part. Then will I swear beauty herself is black, And all they foul that thy complexion lack”
“Juliet is the east and i am the sun.”
“He is the half part of a blessed man,Left to be finished by such as she;And she a fair divided excellence,Whose fullness of perfection lies in him. ”
“I hope they will not come upon us now.King Henry: We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs.”
“In time we hate that which we often fear.”
“Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues we write in water.”
“If all the year were playing holidays; To sport would be as tedious as to work.”
“I am not bound to please thee with my answers.”
“By that sin fell the angels.”
“So fair and foul a day I have not seen.”
“And yet by heaven I think my love as rare / as any that she belie with false compare”
“It is excellent To have a giant's strength But it is tyrannous To use it like a giant”
“The pow'r I have on you is to spare you / The malice towards you, to forgive you. Posthumus”
“Truth may seem, but cannot be;Beauty brag, but 'tis not she:Truth and beauty buriéd be.”
“Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.”
“Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life.”
“Danger knows full well that Caesar is more dangerous than he. We are two lions litter’d in one day, and I the elder and more terrible.”
“Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.Katherine: If I be waspish, best beware my sting.Petruchio: My remedy is then, to pluck it out.Katherine: Ay, if the fool could find where it lies.Petruchio: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.Katherine: In his tongue.Petruchio: Whose tongue?Katherine: Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell.Petruchio: What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman.”
“Love's stories written in love's richest books.To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.”
“Your face, my thane, is as a book where menMay read strange matters. To beguile the time,Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,But be the serpent under't.”
“Cupid is a knavish lad,Thus to make poor mortals mad!”
“You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life.”
“To be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;No more; and by a sleep to say we endThe heart-ache and the thousand natural shocksThat flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummationDevoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;For in that sleep of death what dreams may comeWhen we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause: there's the respectThat makes calamity of so long life;For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,The insolence of office and the spurnsThat patient merit of the unworthy takes,When he himself might his quietus makeWith a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscover'd country from whose bournNo traveller returns, puzzles the willAnd makes us rather bear those ills we haveThan fly to others that we know not of?Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;And thus the native hue of resolutionIs sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,And enterprises of great pith and momentWith this regard their currents turn awry,And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisonsBe all my sins remember'd!”
“But whate'er I am, nor I nor any man that but man is,With nothing shall be pleased 'til he be easedWith being nothing. ”
“What a fool honesty is.”