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Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?
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
Ophelia
Commerce
Honesty
Beauty
Lord
Better
More quotes by William Shakespeare
My love is thaw'd Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
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When the age is in, the wit is out
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That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'er-reaches one that would circumvent God, might it not?
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Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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Do not cast away an honest man for a villain's accusation.
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Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, And all the conduits of my blood froze up, Yet hath my night of life some memory, My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left, My dull deaf ears a little use to hear.
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The morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness.
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The cunning livery of hell.
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The moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven.
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I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.
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She's gone. I am abused, and my relief must be to loathe her.
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O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From the world-wearied flesh
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If you shall marry, You give away this hand, and this is mine You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine You give away myself, which is known mine For I by vow am so embodied yours That she which marries you must marry me-- Either both or none.
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Full fathom five thy father lies Of his bones are coral made Those are pearls that were his eyes Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them — Ding-dong, bell.
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But she makes hungry Where she most satisfies.
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I have nothing Of woman in me now from head to foot I am marble-constant.
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Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.
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He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.
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A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
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Love is merely a madness.
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