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For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.
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
Sick
Cold
Heart
Much
Relief
Bitter
Thanks
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I would not lose so great an honor As one man more methinks would share with me For the best hope I have.
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Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
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What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.
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Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!
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Have more than you show, Speak less than you know.
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My way of life Is fall'n into the sear and yellow leaf.
William Shakespeare
Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits? Malvolio: Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Feste: But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.
William Shakespeare
This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his valour is crush'd into folly, his folly sauced with discretion.
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And nature must obey necessity.
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God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts into one.
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As chaste as unsunned snow.
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Taste your legs, sire: put them into motion.
William Shakespeare
You have too much respect upon the world They lose it that do buy it with much care
William Shakespeare
When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies.
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Advance our standards, set upon our foes Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
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How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!
William Shakespeare
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty!, guilty!
William Shakespeare
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.
William Shakespeare
What I have done is yours what I have to do is yours being part in all I have, devoted yours.
William Shakespeare
What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish a very ancient and fishlike smell a kind of not of the newest poor-John. A strange fish!
William Shakespeare