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For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
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
Days
Wonder
Modernism
Eyes
Tongues
Eye
Behold
Tongue
Lack
Praise
Present
More quotes by William Shakespeare
We must follow, not force Providence.
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Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry
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The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.
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For sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.
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O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.
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Fight to the last gasp.
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The coward dies a thousand deaths, the valiant, only once!
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Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
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Doubting things go ill often hurts more Than to be sure they do for certainties Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing, The remedy then born.
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'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
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I'll be at charges for a looking-glass And entertain a score or two of tailors To study fashions to adorn my body: Since I am crept in favor with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost.
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The king is but a man, as I am the violet smells to him as it doth to me the element shows to him as it doth to me all his senses have but human conditions his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.
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Rashly, And praised be rashness for it--let us know, Our indiscretion sometime serves us well When our deep plots do pall, and that should learn us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will
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For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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Omittance is no quittance.
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Dirty days hath September April June and November From January up to May The rain it raineth every day All the rest have thirty-one Without a blessed gleam of sun And if any of them had two-and-thirty They'd be just as wet and twice as dirty. April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
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A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity but you gods will give us Some faults to make us men.
William Shakespeare
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
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There was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently
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Love is your master, for he masters you And he that is so yoked by a fool Methinks should not be chronicled for wise.
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