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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
Ever
Tales
Never
Hear
Love
Courses
Course
Read
Aught
History
Midsummer
Running
Tale
True
Smooth
More quotes by William Shakespeare
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores Of will and judgment.
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Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.
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Discomfort guides my tongue And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
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A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
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Too much to know is to know naught but fame.
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So our virtues lie in the interpretation of the time
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How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!
William Shakespeare
However wickedness outstrips men, it has no wings to fly from God.
William Shakespeare
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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Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light
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In persons grafted in a serious trust, Negligence is a crime.
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To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
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Full many a glorious morn I have seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.
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All's well if all ends well.
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Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
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There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history, fully unfold.
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Adversity makes strange bedfellows.
William Shakespeare
Some kinds of baseness are nobly undergone.
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That is honor's scorn Which challenges itself as honor's born And is not like the sire. Honors thrive When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers.
William Shakespeare