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Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands. Curtsied when you have and kissed The wild waves whist, Foot is featly here and there And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Ariel's song, scene II, Act I
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
Scene
Yellow
Sweet
Foot
Sprites
Feet
Sand
Whist
Wild
Ariel
Song
Wave
Sands
Hands
Burden
Kissed
Come
Bear
Waves
Take
Bears
Unto
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All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy.
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If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear.
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Fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.
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Sound trumpets! Let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave.
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Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.
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Now is the winter of our discontent.
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If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes. If the winds rages, doth not the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin with its big-swoll'n face? And wilt though have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth.
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Pastime passing excellent, if it he husbanded with modesty.
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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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Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!
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The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony.
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Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again And make poor England weep in streams of blood! Let them not live to taste this land's increase That would with treason wound this fair land's peace! Now civil wounds are stopped, peace lives again: That she may long live here, God say amen!
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Thou unfit for any place but hell.
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Desperate times breed desperate measures
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A whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing as if I borrowed mine oaths of him and might not spend them at my pleasure. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha?
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... the spring, the summer, The chilling autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries and the mazed world By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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