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As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
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
Free
Would
Tempest
Indulgence
Pardon
Crimes
Crime
More quotes by William Shakespeare
What wouldst thou do, old man? Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak When power to flattery bows?
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For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
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We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good so find we profit By losing of our prayers.
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My prophecy is but half his journey yet, For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.
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She speaks poniards, and every word stabs.
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The play's the thing.
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A thousand moral paintings I can show That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's More pregnantly than words.
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How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!
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Charity itself fulfills the law. And who can sever love from charity?
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woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see
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This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!
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He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger.
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Mend when thou canst be better at thy leisure.
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Self-love is the most inhibited sin in the canon.
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As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
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This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o-erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.
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... by indirections find directions out.
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There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.
William Shakespeare
But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose but Fortune, O!
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O, the blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
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