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Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
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
Prove
Taste
Sweet
Food
Things
Digestion
Sour
Eating
More quotes by William Shakespeare
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them
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O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer!
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Grief makes one hour ten.
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I profess not talking: only this, Let each man do his best.
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Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands, But more when envy breeds unkind division: There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
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Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
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Omittance is no quittance.
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That affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence.
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Time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arm outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer.
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.
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I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
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Holy, fair, and wise is she The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.
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Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator.
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I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face.
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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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O, this life Is nobler than attending for a check, Richer than doing nothing for a robe, Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk: Such pain the cap of him that makes him fine Yet keeps his book uncrossed.
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My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. Help, three o' th' chiefest soldiers I'll be one. Beat thou the drum, that it speaks mournfully, Trail your steel spikes. Though in this city he Hath widowed and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.
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Be wary then best safety lies in fear.
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So now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine, Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.
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But like of each thing that in season grows.
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