William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Comments about William Shakespeare

  • Rookie Umeed Baqa (1/23/2012 6:32:00 AM)

    SHAKSPEARS thats all!
    Nothing to be said now......

    61 person liked.
    102 person did not like.
  • Rookie - 391 Points Subbaraman N V (12/29/2011 2:47:00 AM)

    He is a great legend! It is a sin to compare him with others!
    N V Subbaraman

  • Rookie - 391 Points Subbaraman N V (12/29/2011 2:47:00 AM)

    He is a great legend! It is a sin to compare him with others!
    N V Subbaraman

  • Rookie - 391 Points Subbaraman N V (12/29/2011 2:46:00 AM)

    He is a great legend! It is a sin to compare him with others!
    N V Subbaraman

  • Rookie Dakota Majore (10/24/2011 10:01:00 AM)

    He Is Old But Amazing R.I.P

  • Rookie Seun Bewaji (9/2/2011 7:06:00 AM)

    Shakes is 'Baba' of poets forever. RIP

  • Rookie Najibullah Amiri (8/12/2011 4:18:00 AM)

    helo all my friends do u know during of my childhood i have heared the name of great shakespeare when i was afghanistan...i am from afghanistan

  • Rookie Isabella Fortunato (5/29/2010 3:01:00 PM)

    My favorite writer ever. Both his poem and plays are fantastic. A true genious.
    R.I.P William Shakespeare<3

  • Rookie - 7 Points Chukwuma Ndububa (5/6/2010 2:41:00 PM)

    R.I.P Sir William,
    My Role-model.
    I am just wordless.

  • Rookie - 291 Points p.a. noushad (4/13/2010 12:56:00 AM)

    your verses give me depth of insight about life.

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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