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Through tattered clothes great vices do appear Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks. Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
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
Strong
Vices
Straws
Doe
Appear
Robes
Great
Sin
Rags
Gold
Pierce
Furred
Clothes
Plate
Tattered
Arms
Plates
Lance
Justice
Breaks
Straw
Break
Hide
Gowns
More quotes by William Shakespeare
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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The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.
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Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes then little strength rings out the doleful knell.
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He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
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There's place and means for every man alive.
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For to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
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A man I am cross'd with adversity.
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But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
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For though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.
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Small things make base men proud.
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This we prescribe, though no physician Deep malice makes too deep incision Forget, forgive conclude and be agreed Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
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Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
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Is this government of Britain's Isle, and this the royalty of Albion's King?
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When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain.
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The devil is a gentleman.
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Poor and content, is rich and rich enough But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
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Blessings of your heart, you brew good ale.
William Shakespeare
Have you not love enough to bear with me, when that rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful.
William Shakespeare
Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
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The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape, In forms imaginary, th' unguided days And rotten times that you shall look upon When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
William Shakespeare