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Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.
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
Within
Sickle
Though
Rosy
Come
Sonnet
Time
Bending
Love
Compass
Cheeks
Lips
Fool
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Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
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Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
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Let fancy still in my sense in Lethe steep If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
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Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marle?
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And be these juggling friends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.
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Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?
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Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light
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What e'er thou art, act well thy part.
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That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack, when it begins to rain, And leave thee in a storm.
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What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish a very ancient and fishlike smell a kind of not of the newest poor-John. A strange fish!
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You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave.
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A little water clears us of this deed.
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He that dies pays all debts.
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For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
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When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.
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