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Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
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
Doors
Chimney
Stop
Chimneys
Upon
Hole
Woman
Wit
Make
Shut
Holes
Smoke
Casement
Keys
Twill
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An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
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Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.
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The horn, the horn, the lusty horn Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.
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For naught so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give.
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He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf.
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Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.
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Against self-slaughter There is a prohibition so divine That cravens my weak hand.
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The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it.
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So many horrid Ghosts.
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Bear with my weakness. My old brain is troubled. Be not disturbed with my infirmity.
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Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.
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Death-counterfeiting sleep.
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They are sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing.
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Some are born great, others achieve greatness.
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Why, headstrong liberty is lashed with woe. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky.
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May never glorious sun reflex his beams Upon the country where you make abode! But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Environ you till mischief and despair Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves.
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Condemn the fault and not the actor of it?
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Preferment goes by letter and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to th's first.
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You cannot make gross sins look clear: To revenge is no valour, but to bear.
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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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