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Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies!
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
Body
Soul
Hale
Music
Hail
Men
Sheep
Guts
Bodies
Souls
Strange
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Take her away for she hath lived too long, To fill the world with vicious qualities.
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I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
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Take it in what sense thou wilt.
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I have heard it said There is an art which in their piedness shares With great creating nature.
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It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.
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Love is merely a madness.
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Ay beauty's princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.
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Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
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The attempt and not the deed confounds us.
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Tired with all these for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn.
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To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
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Travelers must be content.
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And send him many years of sunshine days!
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By being seldom seen, I could not stir But like a comet I was wondered at.
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But there is no such man for, brother, men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel but, tasting it, Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air and agony with words.
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You are not wood, you are not stones, but men.
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Glendower: I can call the spirits from the vasty deep. Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man But will they come, when you do call for them?
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Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
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Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.
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Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay, And that bare vowel ay shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I,if there be such an ay, Or those eyes shut,that make thee answer ay: If he be slain say ay,or if not,no: Brief sounds,determine of my weal or woe.
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