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Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .
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
Art
Fair
Thou
Maid
Grief
Juliet
Sun
Maids
Sick
Envious
Kill
Pale
Moon
Arise
Already
Fairs
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Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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Avaunt, you cullions!
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Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger
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I have heard it said There is an art which in their piedness shares With great creating nature.
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Oh! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves.
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I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
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Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
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Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.
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The play's the thing.
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The devil is a gentleman.
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Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
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The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
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