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I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.
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
Quantity
Brothers
Forty
Brother
Thousand
Polonius
Loved
Ophelia
Make
Horatio
Love
Tempest
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Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.
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There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased, The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
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O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours with Time's deformed hand Have written strange defeatures in my face. But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?
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Come give us a taste of your quality.
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She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
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A thousand moral paintings I can show That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's More pregnantly than words.
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Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
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Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind And makes it fearful and degenerate.
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Danger knows full well that Caesar is more dangerous than he. We are two lions litter’d in one day, and I the elder and more terrible.
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We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves And spend our flatteries to drink those men Upon whose age we void it up again With poisonous spite and envy.
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His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.
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By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it save I alone.
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