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On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily.
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
Merrily
Bats
Summer
Back
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Coward dogs most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten runs far before them.
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All pity choked with custom of fell deeds.
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I do not know What kind of my obedience I should tender. More than my all is nothing nor my prayers Are not words holy hallowed, nor my wishes More worth than empty vanities yet prayers and wishes Are all I can return.
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Tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age, Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdened crawl toward death.
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My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty!, guilty!
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God send everyone their heart's desire!
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Prophet may you be! If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, when time is old and hath forgot itself, when waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy, and blind oblivion swallowed cities up, and mighty states characterless are grated to dusty nothing, yet let memory, from false to false, among false maids in love, upbraid my falsehood!
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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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A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)
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She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a woeful ditty How love makes young men thrall and old men dote How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, And still the choir of echoes answer so.
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A good wit will make use of anything.
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Love goes toward love.
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The moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven.
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All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
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Love thyself last, cherish those hearts that hate thee Corruption wins not more than honesty.
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For some must watch, while some must sleep So runs the world away
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I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.
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Heaven is above all yet there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
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Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*
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After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
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