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Speak low, if you speak love.
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
Romance
Lows
Silence
Speak
Love
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My soul is in the sky.
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She is your treasure, she must have a husband I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day, And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell.
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Sir Andrew Ague-Cheek: I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether (He's an oddity in that he enjoys having fun)
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
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That which in mean men we entitle patience is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
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The good I stand on is my truth and honesty.
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Ambition, the soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, than gain which darkens him.
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A fool's bolt is soon shot.
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She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed She is a woman, therefore to be won.
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Memory, the warder of the brain.
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Danger knows full well that Caesar is more dangerous than he. We are two lions litter’d in one day, and I the elder and more terrible.
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The weakest kind of fruit drops earliest to the ground.
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Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
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I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursued my humor not pursuing his, And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.
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You have too much respect upon the world They lose it that do buy it with much care
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Know more than other. Work more than other. Expect less than other
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I have trod a measure, I have flattered a lady, I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy.
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The weary sun hath made a golden set And by the bright tract of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
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