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'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
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
Enough
Feeble
Philanthropy
Welfare
Charity
Support
Help
Helping
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Knavery's plain face is never seen till used.
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My crown is in my heart, not on my head.
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I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation.
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I do oppose My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.
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Wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, but presently prevent the ways to wail.
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Make use of time, let not advantage slip Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.
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I am a foe to tyrants, and my country's friend.
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I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.
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A virtuous and a Christianlike conclusion-- To pray for them that have done scathe to us.
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Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
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A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.
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What is the city but the people?
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I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
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One whom the music of his own vain tongue doth ravish like enchanting harmony.
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Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words. Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord? Hamlet: Between who? Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
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'Tis brief, my lord...as woman's love.
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The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
William Shakespeare
Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
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You take my house when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house you take my life When you do take the means whereby I live.
William Shakespeare
Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves.
William Shakespeare