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The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.
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
Better
Life
Valour
Valor
Discretion
Saved
Part
More quotes by William Shakespeare
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by-and-by black night doth take away.
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What infinite heart's-ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
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To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans coy looks, with heart-sore sighs one fading moment's mirth
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How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
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From this day forward until the end of the world...we in it shall be remembered...we band of brothers.
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How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!
William Shakespeare
Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
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In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.
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Cheerily to sea the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France
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The gallantry of his grief did put me into a towering passion.
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An angel or, if not, An earthly paragon.
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Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither. Ripeness is all.
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And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.
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Speak comfortable words.
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With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
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The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
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He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
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One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
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An old black ram is tupping your white ewe
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The object of Art is to give life a shape.
William Shakespeare