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By that sin fell the angels.
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
Sin
Angels
Fell
Angel
More quotes by William Shakespeare
When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will
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And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
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Benvolio- By my head, here come the Capulets. Mercutio- By my heel, I care not.
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
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And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
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Take but degree away, untune that string, and hark, what discord follows!
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Time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will.
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No reckoning made, but sent to my account with all my imperfections on my head.
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Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast.
William Shakespeare
Hot blood begets hot thoughts, And hot thoughts beget Hot deeds, And hot deeds is love.
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Many strokes, though with a little axe, hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
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But yet, I say, if imputation and strong circumstances, which lead directly to the door of truth, will give you satisfaction, you may have it.
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Murder most foul, as in the best it it But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
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If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell.
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Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand And send it to the King: he for the same Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
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I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.
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Shall I never see a bachelor of three score again?
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Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?
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Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes
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Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try.
William Shakespeare