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.
“Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my moneys and my usances; Still have I borne it with a patient shrug, For suff’rance is the badge of all our tribe; You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help; Go to, then; you come to me, and you say ‘Shylock, we would have moneys.’ You say so: You that did void your rheum upon my beard, And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold; moneys is your suit. What should I say to you? Should I not say ‘Hath a dog money? Is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats?’ Or Shall I bend low and, in a bondman’s key, With bated breath and whisp’ring humbleness, Say this:— ‘Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; You spurn’d me such a day; another time You call’d me dog; and for these courtesies I’ll lend you thus much moneys?”
“Of France and England, did this king succeed;Whose state so many had the managing.That they lost France and made his England bleed.”
“And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,In corporal sufferance finds a pang as greatAs when a giant dies.”
“God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan’s, a better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palentine; he is every man in no man. If a throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap’ring. He will fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands.”
“Sound drums and trumpets! Farewell sour annoy! For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.”
“Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.”
“There is flattery in friendship - William Shakespeare”
“If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;And all this day an unaccustom'd spiritLifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.I dreamt my lady came and found me dead—Strange dream, that gives a dead man leaveto think!—And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,That I revived, and was an emperor.Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!”
“Rumour is a pipeBlown by surmises, jealousies, conjecturesAnd of so easy and so plain a stopThat the blunt monster with uncounted heads,The still-discordant wavering multitude,Can play upon it.”
“Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,The which in every language I pronounce,Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.”
“Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.”
“Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving: O, but with mine compare thou thine own state, And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,”
“I cannot speak your england.”
“And whatsomever else shall hap tonight, give it an understanding but no tongue, I will requit your love. So, fare your well. My lord, he hath importuned me with love, in honourable fashion.”
“Nay, I'll conjure too.Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thighAnd the demesnes that there adjacent lie,That in thy likeness thou appear to us!”
“Sometimes when we are labeled, when we are branded our brand becomes our calling.”
“The grief that does not speak whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break.”
“Alas, poor country, almost afraid to know itself! It cannot be called our mother, but our grave.”
“When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again?”
“I am in this earthly world, where to do harm is often laudable, to do good sometime accounted dangerous folly.”
“To show an unfelt sorrow is an officeWhich the false man does easy.”
“The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.”
“Who can be wise, amazed, temp'rate, and furious,Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man.”
“He will stay till ye come.”
“Where is Polonius?- In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger find him not there, seek him i' the other place yourself.”
“I think he'll be to Rome as is the osprey to the fish, who takes it by sovereignty of nature.”
“How many things by season season'd are, To their right praise and true perfection!”
“Since brevity is the soul of wit,And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,I will be brief.”
“Therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself! 'Tis clean out of the way. Seek thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned and go without her.”
“Tis no mean happiness to be seated in the mean.”
“O Judgment ! Thou art fled to brutish beasts, and men have lost their reason !”
“Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, to comfort thee, though thou art banished.”
“Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.”
“Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joyBe heaped like mine, and that thy skill be moreTo blazon it, then sweeten with thy breathThis neighbours air, and let rich music’s tongueUnfold the imagined happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter.”
“Still better, and worse.”
“Yet do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,My love shall in my verse ever live young”
“Where wasteful Time debateth with decayTo change your day of youth to sullied night,And all in war with Time for love of you,As he takes from you, I engraft you new”
“Make thee another self for love of me,That beauty still may live in thine or thee”
“Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth”
“O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping.”
“O, it is excellentTo have a giant's strenght, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.”
“How does your patient, doctor?Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.”
“You lie.”
“By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods; since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, but music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night and his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.”
“So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.”
“O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head,Which have no correspondence with true sight!...Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,That censures falsely what they see aright?If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,What means the world to say it is not so?If it be not, then love doth well denoteLove's eye is not so true as all men's 'No.'How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,That is so vex'd with watching and with tears? No marvel then, though I mistake my view;The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind,Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find. - Shakespeare's Sonnet 148”
“Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.”
“Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor-John.”
“A violet in the youth of primy nature,Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting;The perfume and suppliance of a minute;No more.”
“Love is familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love." -”