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Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
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
Love
Prudence
Slow
Friars
Fast
Impulsive
Hatred
Slowing
Advice
Stumble
Wise
Juliet
Hate
Wisely
Running
Haste
More quotes by William Shakespeare
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand! Oh, oh, oh!
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That which I would discover The law of friendship bids me to conceal.
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Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, Hath raised me from my bed nor doth the general care Take hold on me for my particular grief Is of so floodgate and o'erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, And it is still itself.
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To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey'd, Such seems your beauty still.
William Shakespeare
The heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east.
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Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure let us be jocund
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What valor were it, when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth, when he might spurn him with his foot away?
William Shakespeare
Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
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Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
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In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow
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Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affection, Figures pedantical--these summer flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
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This sleep is sound indeed this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd So many English kings.
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When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men for thus sings he, Cuckoo Cuckoo, cuckoo O, word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
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I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo to in festival terms.
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You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.
William Shakespeare
Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes.
William Shakespeare
Two women placed together makes cold weather.
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Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat Of habits devil, is angel yet in this.
William Shakespeare
To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
William Shakespeare
Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up in a glistering grief, and wear a golden sorrow.
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