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If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!
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
Near
Breath
Breaths
Star
Terrible
Benedick
Stars
Infect
Living
Termination
Would
North
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You'd be so lean, that blast of January Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might Become your time of day.
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So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him!
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O heresy in fair, fit for these days, A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
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But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
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Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?
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Kindness nobler ever than revenge.
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Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
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My crown is in my heart, not on my head not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
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As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
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Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on instinct.
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Unless the old adage must be verified, That beggars mounted, run their horse to death.
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Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
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Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud And after summer evermore succeeds Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
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Pardon's the word to all.
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Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Nor age so eat up my invention, Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, But they shall find awaked in such a kind Both strength of limb and policy of mind, Ability in means, and choice of friends, To quit me of them throughly.
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Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more, men were deceivers ever
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One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
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It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
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Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
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Ingratitude is monstrous.
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