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Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Romantic
Romance
Fume
Smoke
Sighs
Passion
Discreet
Made
Juliet
Love
Valentine
Sigh
Confusion
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
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Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
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I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.
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Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
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A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.
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If our virtues did not go forth of us, it were all alike as if we had them not.
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Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime?
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Such thanks as fits a king's remembrance.
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I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both.
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Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.
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A good sherris-sack hath a twofold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain,... makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes.
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Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence!
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There's nothing in this world can make me joy.
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Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
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This above all to thine own self be true.
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