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Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own read.
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
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Pastor
Treads
Preaching
Libertine
Path
Ophelia
Heaven
Pastors
Show
Puff
Ungracious
Read
Steep
Primrose
Shows
Whilst
Thorny
Way
Reckless
Polonius
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O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
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We cannot fight for love, as men may do we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo
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Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge of thine own cause.
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Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
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We are advertis'd by our loving friends.
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O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.-Helena
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They that have voice of lions and act of hares,--are they not monsters?
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If is a custom, More honor'd in the breach than the observance.
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Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you
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Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
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I would fain die a dry death.
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Be merry you have cause, so have we all, of joy for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
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Brevity is the soul of wit.
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately— long love doth so.
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Finish, good lady the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark.
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Hold, or cut bowstrings.
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The color of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.
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Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
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She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
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Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
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