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It hurts not the tongue to give fair words.
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
Words
Give
Giving
Hurts
Fairs
Tongue
Fair
Hurt
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
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Avaunt, you cullions!
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To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
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What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
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For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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All that glisters is not gold Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
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Wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.
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O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul that, struggling to be free, art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart with strings of steel, be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
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Gently to hear, kindly to judge.
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I almost die for food, and let me have it!
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Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on his back.
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Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.
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Your wisdom is consum'd in confidence. Do not go forth to-day.
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If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not As to thy friends for when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend?
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Ay me! sad hours seem long.
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Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
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The very instant I saw you, did My heart fly to your service there resides To make me slave to it. ...mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want.
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The mind of guilt is full of scorpions.
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I will through and through Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world, If they will patiently receive my medicine.
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