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Enough no more Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
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
Sweet
Enough
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.
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I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
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This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it.
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Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth, And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out.
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Divers philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the mouth.
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No man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger.
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Why should honor outlive honestly? Orthello
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I am the Prince of Wales and think not, Percy, To share with me in glory any more: Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere.
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My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
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So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.
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Like madness, is the glory of this life.
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible.
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There is a time in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
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One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.
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Unless the old adage must be verified, That beggars mounted, run their horse to death.
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Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other side
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Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars that can count their worth But my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
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Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated
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Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.
William Shakespeare