William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet, and actor widely regarded as one of the greatest writers in the English language. He was born in Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire, England, on April 26, 1564, and was baptized on April 26, 1564. Shakespeare was the third child of John Shakespeare, a glove maker and town official, and Mary Arden, a wealthy landowner’s daughter.
Shakespeare’s exact date of birth is unknown, but it is believed he was born on or around April 23, which is also the date he later died. He received a basic education at the local grammar school and is thought to have left school at the age of 14 or 15.
Shakespeare moved to London in the late 1580s and began working as an actor and playwright. Over the course of his career, he wrote more than 30 plays, including tragedies such as Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, and Macbeth, as well as comedies such as A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Twelfth Night.
Shakespeare’s works have had a profound influence on literature and the arts, and his legacy continues to be celebrated to this day. He died on April 23, 1616, in Stratford-upon-Avon, at the age of 52, and is buried in the chancel of Holy Trinity Church in Stratford.
To be, or not to be: that is the question.
All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
To be wise and love, Exceeds man’s might.
All that glitters is not gold.
We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
If music be the food of love, play on.
Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.
Parting is such sweet sorrow.
To do a great right, do a little wrong.
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone is the next way to draw new mischief on.
All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.
Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
O, it is excellent to have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.
The miserable have no other medicine but only hope.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
Brevity is the soul of wit.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones.
This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
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!
How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child!
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
The better part of valour is discretion.
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.