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The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.
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
Eye
Birds
Daylight
Night
Bright
Lamps
Shame
Doth
Would
Sing
Region
Airy
Think
Bird
Cheeks
Juliet
Thinking
Eyes
Stream
Lamp
Stars
Regions
Brightness
Heaven
Streams
Cheek
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Have patience, and endure
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The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.
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Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
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There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.
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To England will I steal, and there I'll steal.
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Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
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Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English.
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That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. (Enobarbus)
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Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises and oft it hits where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.
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I shall the effect of this good lesson keeps as watchman to my heart.
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They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.
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I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
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The love of wicked men converts to fear That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both To worthy danger and deserved death.
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A table-full of welcome!
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The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.
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To be, or not to be, that is the question.
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By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.
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woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see
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Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?
William Shakespeare