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Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening sun.
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
Words
Ends
Done
Woes
Likewise
Woe
Evening
Sun
Comfort
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But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
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For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.
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Thus conscience does make cowards of us all And thus the native hue of resolution Is slicked o'er with the pale cast of thought
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Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart?
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My soul is in the sky.
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O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle.
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To say the truth, so Judas kissed his master And cried, 'All hail!' when as he meant all harm.
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Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure, And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.
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Thoughts are but dreams till their effects are tried.
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By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word approve me, lord.
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France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits the tread of a man's foot.
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By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me.
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There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
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Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.
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Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death the memory be green.
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The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
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