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Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
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
Power
Juliet
Hath
Honey
Breath
Breaths
Beauty
Upon
Death
Suck
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To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder, In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick, cross lightning.
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a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief
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My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
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Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
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God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts into one.
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.
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I will be free, even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
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And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother
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Men judge by the complexion of the sky The state and inclination of the day.
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The sense of death is most in apprehension.
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This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
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A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
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Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries.
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A book? O, rare one, Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment Nobler than that it covers.
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I have shot mine arrow o'er the house And hurt my brother.
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Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.
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Come, Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.
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