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Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops. Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.
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
Melancholy
Candle
Burned
Stands
Tinged
Hope
Tiptoe
Night
Tiptoes
Life
Misty
Like
Candles
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .
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April ... hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
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Yet, do thy worst, old Time despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.
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When Death doth close his tender dying eyes.
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If it be aught toward the general good, Set honor in one eye and death i' th' other, And I will look on both indifferently For let the gods so speed me as I love The name of honor more than I fear death.
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But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds [vows] disgraced them. Viola: Thy reason, man? Feste: Troth [Truthfully], sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.
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On Rumor's tongue continual slanders ride.
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A smile cures the wounding of a frown.
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires inan hour.
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Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great. Oh! I could hew up rocks, and fight with flint.
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When most I wink, then do my eyes best see
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness.
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Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.
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Pardon's the word to all.
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I will go wash And when my face is fair, you shall perceive Whether I blush or no.
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This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property ordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings.
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Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own
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Cowards die many times a brave man dies but once.
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But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' Stuck in my throat.
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