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If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
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
Giving
Musical
Love
Food
Dies
Night
Sicken
Give
Unrequited
May
Excess
Music
Appetite
Play
Romance
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
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Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
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Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
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Passion lends them power, time means to meet, tempering extremities with extremes sweet.
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Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie. Romeo: In bed asleep while they do dream things true.
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I thought my heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.
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What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?
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They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.
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These cardinals trifle with me I abhor This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
William Shakespeare
Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science Than I have in this ring.
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Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
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And my poor fool is hanged! No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray you, undo this button.
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But when I came, alas, to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.
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But now behold, In the quick forge and working-house of thought, How London doth pour out her citizens!
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A turn or two I'll walk To still my beating mind.
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Let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them.
William Shakespeare
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot Follow your spirit: and upon this charge, Cry — God for Harry! England and Saint George!
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Thus conscience does make cowards of us all And thus the native hue of resolution Is slicked o'er with the pale cast of thought
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Be great in act, as you have been in thought.
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Fair Katherine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
William Shakespeare