For the longest time I would argue that Shakespeare never wrote a single thing. It was some other mans mind that thought up these plays. Maybe it was Marlow, or how about Bacon; it could be Anne Hathaway for all I cared. Just so long as it wasn’t Shakespeare.
I then started to read Hamlet and I realized that, these plays aren’t stories. These plays, sonnets, and poems are works of art. When you look at a painting, you don’t think of who painted it, you look at it for it’s beauty. So it really doesn’t matter who wrote these works of art. “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” – Shakespeare. So even if it was some other man who wrote it, wouldn’t it still be some of the greatest literature ever written?
I’ve since decided that even if they do find out that this guy from Stratford didn’t write them, what’s going to change? How can you put a price on art that is so beautiful and timeless? So whether it was De Vere, Marlow, Bacon, or the poor man from Stratford, Shakespeare, whoever he is will live on forever in the gifts he’s given the world.