But man, proud man,
Dress'd in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd — His glassy essence — like an angry ape
Plays such … - William Shakespeare
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But man, proud man, Dress'd in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd — His glassy essence — like an angry ape Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
William Shakespeare (26 April 1564 (baptised) – 23 April 1616) was an English poet, playwright, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist.
Biography information from
Wikiquote·
Portrait adapted from
Wikimedia Commons, Attributed to John Taylor (Public domain / CC0)
Also Known As
Also Known As:The Bard of Avon
Alternative Names:
The Bard
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Swan of Avon
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Bard of Avon
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Shakespeare
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William Shakspere
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Shakespere
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Shakespear
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Shakspeare
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Shackspeare
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Shakspere
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William Shakspeare
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William Shake‐speare
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William Shak‐ſpeare
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William Shake-speare
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William Shak-ſpeare
Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit, And, in strong proff of chastity well armed, From Love's weak childish bow she lives uncharmed. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold. O, she is rich in beauty; only poor That, when she dies, with dies her store. Act 1,Scene 1, lines 180-197
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.
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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?
