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Such as we are made of, such we be.
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
Destiny
Made
Love
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Liberty plucks justice by the nose The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum.
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And makes me poor indeed.
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For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
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O Judgment ! Thou art fled to brutish beasts, and men have lost their reason !
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A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
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No man means evil but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns.
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Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
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Speak, what trade art thou? Why, sir, a carpenter. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? What does thou with thy best apparel on?
William Shakespeare
Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue but moody and dull melancholy, kinsman to grim and comfortless despair.
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Knavery's plain face is never seen till used.
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Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him in my heart's core, in my heart of heart, as I do thee.
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He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
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Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
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Thou art all the comfort, The Gods will diet me with.
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Throw physic to the dogs I'll none of it.
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I hope to see London once ere I die.
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Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity?
William Shakespeare
I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figured goblets for a dish of wood, My scepter for a palmer's walking staff My subjects for a pair of carved saints and my large kingdom for a little grave.
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for my grief's so great That no supporter but the huge firm earth Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. (Constance, from King John, Act III, scene 1)
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When I waked, I cried to dream again
William Shakespeare