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A peevish self-willed harlotry it is. *She’s a stubborn little brat.*
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
Stubborn
Littles
Little
Self
Peevish
Brat
Willed
More quotes by William Shakespeare
How many cowards whose hearts are all as false As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, Who inward searched, have livers white as milk!
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We are advertis'd by our loving friends.
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Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! By this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!
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Having nothing, nothing can he lose.
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A man cannot make him laugh but that's no marvel he drinks no wine.... If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
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And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
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If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottage princes' palaces.
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The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
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To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.
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A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
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What, shall one of us, That struck for the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
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Tempt not a desperate man
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I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where To lie in cold obstrution and to rot This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
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I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
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For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.
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Have I thought long to see this morning’s face, And doth it give me such a sight as this?
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A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm
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There's such divinity doth hedge a king That treason can but peep to what it would.
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