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Now, God be praised, that to believing souls gives light in darkness, comfort in despair.
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
Light
Believing
Soul
Souls
Giving
Cancer
Believe
Despair
Comfort
Darkness
Gives
Inspirational
Praised
More quotes by William Shakespeare
She moves me not, or not removes at least affection's edge in me.
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No, Cassius for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things.
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Loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
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The will of man is by his reason sway'd.
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Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to th' rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
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What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
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O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou has no name to be known by, let us call thee devil....O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
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Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.
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Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
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I have no way and therefore want no eyes I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen our means secure us, and our mere defects prove our commodities.
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O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do.
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Oh, I have passed a miserable night, so full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams!
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Thou art a Castilian King urinal!
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There is nothing so confining as the prisons of our own perceptions.
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There's beggary in love that can be reckoned
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Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars That make ambition virtue.
William Shakespeare
In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.
William Shakespeare
Conscience is a thousand swords.
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The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
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whats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin i see hath been his timeless end. oh churl drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after. i will kiss thy lips some poisin doth hang on them, to help me die with a restorative. thy lips are warm. yea noise then ill be brief oh happy dagger this is thy sheath. there rust and let me die.
William Shakespeare