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Doubt thou the stars are fire Doubt that the sun doth move Doubt truth to be a liar But never doubt I love.
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
Moving
Liars
Truth
Wedding
Brevity
Never
Thou
Juliet
Love
Sun
Doubted
Move
Liar
Doubt
Doth
Fire
Valentine
Stars
Boyfriend
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Suffer love a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.
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After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
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Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us anything.
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Macbeth to Witches: What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire, That look not like th' inhabitants o' th' earth, And yet are on 't?
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Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!
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Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns.
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To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars.
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Get thee glass eyes, and like a scurvy politician, seem to see the things thou dost not.
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I am a foe to tyrants, and my country's friend.
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And mind, with my heart in't and now farewell Till half an hour hence.
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Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
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A plague on both your houses.
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In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. -Sonnet 73
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When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
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Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.
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The Eyes are the window to your soul
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Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure, And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.
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That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold What hath quenched them hath given me fire.
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Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.
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His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise.
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