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Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
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
Running
Tale
True
Smooth
Tales
Ever
Hear
Never
Courses
Love
Course
Read
Aught
History
Midsummer
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'Tis best to weigh the enemy more mighty than he seems.
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When faced with a sea of troubles, take action, and in so doing end it.
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From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
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We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.
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O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
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The truest poetry is the most feigning.
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Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?
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Love sees with the heart and not with mind.
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To fear the worst oft cures the worst.
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Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have.
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My nature is subdued to what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
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Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt.
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true apothecary thy drugs art quick
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Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
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Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affection, Figures pedantical--these summer flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
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...and then, in dreaming, / The clouds methought would open and show riches / Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked / I cried to dream again.
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Sycorax has grown into a hoop
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Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
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Ambition's debt is paid.
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Blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
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