William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Comments about William Shakespeare

  • Rookie mahmud muhammad (11/12/2015 3:42:00 AM)

    i believe william shakespear is the best poet and dramatist.

    15 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • Freshman - 502 Points Anton K (11/5/2015 3:03:00 PM)

    Unbeatable. Unsurpassed. So human in spirit, so inhuman in skill.

  • Rookie rakesh vishwakarma (8/31/2015 7:31:00 AM)

    I have short information about this great poet. However, he is graetest.

  • Rookie Rafiqul Islam (8/9/2015 12:28:00 PM)

    Most favourite

  • Rookie sowmyasmeen nidabitha (7/15/2015 2:38:00 AM)

    Great poet

  • Rookie - 0 Points James Shakespeare (7/3/2015 8:20:00 AM)

    i like fish annd chips

  • Rookie - 228 Points Ashek Sarker (5/24/2015 7:52:00 AM)

    life is a tale,
    told by an idiot..
    full of sound and fury
    signifying Nothing

  • Veteran Poet - 1,928 Points p.a. noushad (5/20/2015 5:58:00 PM)

    dear, i cannot forget your verses from my heart.

  • Rookie Artist Nahid (5/17/2015 1:58:00 PM)

    युंहि जझ्बात मुकम्मल नहि होते कातिल... अशियां-ऐ-जनाझा पाना आसां नहि यहां.... Artist 🎨

  • Veteran Poet - 1,928 Points p.a. noushad (5/8/2015 12:35:00 PM)

    Dear, I like your flowery verses very much.

Best Poem of William Shakespeare

All The World's A Stage

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,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in ...

Read the full of All The World's A Stage

Sonnet Cviii

What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must, each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case

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