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I do profess to be no less than I seem to serve him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is honest to converse with him that is wise, and says little to fear judgment to fight when I cannot choose and to eat no fish.
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
Seems
Trust
Fish
Littles
Says
Fishes
Little
Honest
Serve
Love
Wise
Judgment
Fighting
Truly
Less
Choose
Converse
Fear
Seem
Profess
Cannot
Fight
Converses
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One sees more devils than vast hell can hold
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So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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But miserable most, to love unloved? This you should pity rather than despise
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He was not so much brain as earwax
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Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet--nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.
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This rough magic I here abjure and when I have required some heavenly music, which even now I do, to work mine end upon their senses that this airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
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And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.
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If thou art rich, thou art poor for, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, and death unloads thee.
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They are sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing.
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Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
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Scratching could not make it worse, an't were such a face as yours were.
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Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
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And what’s he then that says I play the villain?
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Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove.
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Villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man Snakes in my heart-blood warm'd, that sing my heart Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas.
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And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse, As patches set upon a little breach, Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.
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ROSS You must have patience, madam. LADY MACDUFF He had none: His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.
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