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Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me And tune his merry note, Unto the sweet bird's throat Come hither, come hither, come hither. Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
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
Come
Notes
Tune
Loves
Unto
Bird
Tunes
Sweet
Note
Tree
Throat
Shall
Rough
Greenwood
Enemy
Weather
Hither
Lying
Winter
Merry
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Love will not be spurred to what it loathes
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Nature does require her times of preservation.
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Why, all delights are vain, but that most vain Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book, To seek the light of truth, which truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.
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A grandma's name is little less in love than is the doting title of a mother.
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Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?
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As good luck would have it.
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Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
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So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
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And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
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It is a good divine that follows his own instructions.
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Boldness be my friend.
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And a man's life's no more than to say One.
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Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight which therein works a miracle in Nature, making them lightest that wear most of it: so are those crisped snaky golden locks which make such wanton gambols with the wind upon supposed fairness, often known to be the dowry of a second head, the skull that bred them in the sepulchre.
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The icy precepts of respect.
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For naught so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give.
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I myself am best When least in company.
William Shakespeare
But there is no such man for, brother, men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel but, tasting it, Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air and agony with words.
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Omittance is no quittance.
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A good man's fortune may grow out at heels.
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April ... hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
William Shakespeare