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We suffer a lot the few things we lack and we enjoy too little the many things we have.
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
Things
Suffer
Lack
Suffering
Enjoy
Littles
Little
Many
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Wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.
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When devils will the blackest sins put on They do suggest at first with heavenly shows
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I can see his pride Peep through each part of him.
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God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
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By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it save I alone.
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The will of man is by his reason sway'd.
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I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I.
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An angel or, if not, An earthly paragon.
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Oh God! that one might read the book of fate, And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea.
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As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
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There is a river in Macedon, and there is moreover a river in Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both.
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She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
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If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.
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Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die!
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Glory is like a circle in the water
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This is the third time I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.
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These words are razors to my wounded heart.
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Honor, riches, marriage-blessing Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you!
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The sweets we wish for, turn to loathed sours, Even in the moment that we call them ours.
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And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
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