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Author: William Shakespeare
Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.
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Ben Jonson
I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never plotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a thousand.
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Ben Jonson
This figure that thou here seest put, It was for gentle Shakespeare cut, Wherein the graver had a strife With Nature, to outdo the life: Oh, could he but have drawn his wit As well in brass, as he has hit His face, the print would then surpass All that was ever writ in brass; But since he cannot, reader, look Not on his picture, but his book.
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Ben Jonson
For a good poet's made, as well as born, And such wast thou! Look how the father's face Lives in his issue; even so the race Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine In his well-turned and true-filed lines; In each of which he seems to shake a lance, As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.
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Ben Jonson
He was not of an age, but for all time! And all the Muses still were in their prime, When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm!
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Ben Jonson
Nature herself was proud of his designs, And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines! Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit, As since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.
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Christopher Pearce Cranch
When great poets sing, Into the night new constellations spring, With music in the air that dulls the craft Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled With melody divine.
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Elizabeth Barrett Browning
There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time.
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John Dryden
But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.
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Mark Akenside
This was Shakespeare's form; Who walked in every path of human life, Felt every passion; and to all mankind Doth now, will ever, that experience yield Which his own genius only could acquire.
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Mark Akenside
This was Shakespeare's form; Who walked in every path of human life, Felt every passion; and to all mankind Doth now, will ever, that experience yield Which his own genius only could acquire.
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Matthew Arnold
Others abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask--Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge.
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Matthias Claudius
Voltaire and Shakespeare! He was all The other feigned to be. The flippant Frenchman speaks: I weep; And Shakespeare weeps with me.
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Ralph Waldo Emerson
The passages of Shakespeare that we most prize were never quoted until within this century.
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Ralph Waldo Emerson
What point of morals, of manners, of economy, of philosophy, of religion, of taste, of the conduct of life, has he not settled? What mystery has he not signified his knowledge of? What office, or function, or district of man's work, has he not remembered? What king has he not taught state, as Talma taught Napoleon? What maiden has not found him finer than her delicacy? What lover has he not outloved? What sage has he not outseen? What gentleman has he not instructed in the rudeness of his behavior?
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Richard Watson Gilder
Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme, Have not we sworn it, many a time, That we no more our verse would scrawl, For Shakespeare he had said it all!
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Robert Browning
With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more! Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare be!
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