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Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
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
Clouds
Beauteous
Thou
Cloak
Travel
Cloaks
Promise
Rotten
Without
Hiding
Way
Base
Make
Forth
Smoke
Didst
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence!
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Truth needs no color beauty, no pencil.
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Poise the cause in justice's equal scales, Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails.
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If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
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The native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought and enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.
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Even through the hollow eyes of death I spy life peering.
William Shakespeare
The caterpillars of the commonwealth, Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
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Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
William Shakespeare
I am thy father's spirit Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg'd away.
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Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.
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Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe
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A great cause of the night is lack of the sun.
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Suffer love a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.
William Shakespeare
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.
William Shakespeare
If the boy have not a woman's gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift.
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Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime?
William Shakespeare
Our praises are our wages.
William Shakespeare
What valor were it, when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth, when he might spurn him with his foot away?
William Shakespeare
Let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
William Shakespeare
O heresy in fair, fit for these days, A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
William Shakespeare