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Quote by William Shakespeare

Work

The plays of William Shakespeare: With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators

This book presents a curated selection of William Shakespeare's renowned plays, accompanied by annotations and interpretations from a range of scholarly experts. The annotations aim to provide readers with deeper understanding and analysis of the plays, offering corrections and additional context where necessary. The collection is intended for readers seeking an enriched experience of Shakespeare's works through the lens of scholarly commentary. more

Author

William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare (1564 - April 23, 1616) was one of the greatest poets of the English Renaissance, renowned for his dramatic works. His plays spanned a variety of genres, including tragedy, comedy, and history, and have had a profound impact on literature worldwide. more

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“The chorus-ending from Aristophanes, raised every night from every ditch that drains into the Mediterranean, hoarse and primeval as the raven's croak, is one of the grandest tunes to walk by. Or on a night in May, one can walk through the too rare Italian forests for an hour on end and never be out of hearing of the nightingale's song.”

“Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure; And spring comes green again to trees and grasses Where petals have been shed like tears And lonely birds have sung their grief. ...After the war-fires of three months, One message from home is worth a ton of gold. ...I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thin To hold the hairpins any more.”

“Round a turn of the Qin Fortress winds the Wei River, And Yellow Mountain foot-hills enclose the Court of China; Past the South Gate willows comes the Car of Many Bells On the upper Palace-Garden Road-a solid length of blossom; A Forbidden City roof holds two phoenixes in cloud; The foliage of spring shelters multitudes from rain; And now, when the heavens are propitious for action, Here is our Emperor ready-no wasteful wanderer.”

“When loud by landside streamlets gush, And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush, With sun on the meadows And songs in the shadows Comes again to me The gift of the tongues of the lea, The gift of the tongues of meadows. So when the earth is alive with gods, And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod, And the grass sings in the meadows, And the flowers smile in the shadows, Sits my heart at ease, Hearing the song of the leas, Singing the songs of the meadows.”