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When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray!
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
Devilish
Fray
Kills
Holy
Truth
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I always thought it was both impious and unnatural that such immanity and bloody strife should reign among professors of one faith.
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Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars That make ambition virtue.
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Of all the flowers, me thinks a rose is best.
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How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!
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Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden.
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Travelers never did lie, though fools at home condemn them.
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Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
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And be these juggling friends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.
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Foul whisperings are abroad
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The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease.
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Profit is a blessing, if it's not stolen.
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Upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love.
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My desolation does begin to make A better life.
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Hate pollutes the mind.
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I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
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And do so, love, yet when they have devised What strainèd touches rhetoric can lend, Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathized In true plain words by thy true-telling friend And their gross painting might be better used Where cheeks need blood in thee it is abused.
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Patch grief with proverbs.
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God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
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O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!
William Shakespeare