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Here comes Monseiur Le Beau. Rosalind: With his mouth full of news. Celia: Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rosalind: Then shall we be news-crammed. Celia: All the better we shall be the more marketable.
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
Young
Pigeons
Better
Feed
Mouth
Mouths
Rosalind
News
Celia
Shall
Beau
Full
Marketable
Comes
Crammed
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Shall we upon the footing of our land Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce, To arms invasive?
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But since the affairs of men rests still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
William Shakespeare
Die for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight
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There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.
William Shakespeare
Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
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This is the short and the long of it.
William Shakespeare
Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.
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Affliction may one day smile again and till then, sit thee down, sorrow!.
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Speak comfortable words.
William Shakespeare
Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.
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Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately— long love doth so.
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Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.
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Temptation: the fiend at my elbow.
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But jealous souls will not be answered so, They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they're jealous. 'Tis a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself.
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Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.
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They do not love that do not show their love.
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Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
William Shakespeare
I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience.
William Shakespeare
They are but beggars that can count their worth.
William Shakespeare