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A ministering angel shall my sister be.
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
Ministering
Sisterhood
Sibling
Sister
Angel
Shall
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One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.
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Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
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What else may hap, to time I will commit.
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What can be happier than for a man, conscious of virtuous acts, and content with liberty, to despise all human affairs?
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Who is it can read a woman?
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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Who is here so vile that will not love his country?
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Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
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This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it.
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Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
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Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.
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Tis gold Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up This deer to th' stand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief, Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man.
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This night I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
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Cursed be he that moves my bones.
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These signs have marked me extraordinary, And all the courses of my life do show I am not in the roll of common men.
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Let none presume To wear an undeserved dignity.
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for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
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