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He knows what it's like to strut and fret his hour upon the stage and then be heard no more.
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
Fret
Hour
Stage
Heard
Hours
Upon
Like
Strut
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Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own
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The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.
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The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
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So may the outward shows be least themselves The world is still deceived with ornament.
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Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds.
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
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This is the very ecstasy of love.
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But love is blind and lovers cannot see
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To be furious, is to be frighted out of fear.
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When our actions do not, our fears make us traitors.
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Shine out fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.
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Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
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Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.
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Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog.
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My love's more richer than my tongue.
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Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.
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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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Soft pity enters an iron gate.
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Put on The dauntless spirit of resolution.
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