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Rude am I in my speech, And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace.
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
Phrase
Little
Rude
Phrases
Soft
Blessed
Speech
Peace
Littles
More quotes by William Shakespeare
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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It is the purpose that makes strong the vow But vows to every purpose must not hold.
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O heaven! were man, But constant, he were perfect.
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Headstrong liberty is lashed with woe.
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Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
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Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks
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Modest wisdom plucks me from over-credulous haste.
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Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer for look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.
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Polonius: Do you know me, my lord? Hamlet: Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
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How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.
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Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
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O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.
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Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
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Do not for one repulse, forego the purpose That you resolved to effect.
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The weakest goes to the wall.
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My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
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My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.
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There is a time in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
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Love moderately long love doth so too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
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There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't
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