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To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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
Son
Good
Wombs
Think
Nobly
Thinking
Tempest
Borne
Womb
Sons
Grandmother
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Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
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Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.
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This we prescribe, though no physician Deep malice makes too deep incision Forget, forgive conclude and be agreed Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
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Mercutio: If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
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Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for thunder?
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No, no, I am but shadow of myself: You are deceived, my substance is not here.
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It is a wise father that knows his own child.
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Thou art a soul in bliss but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
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By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake endeavour for defence For courage mounteth with occasion.
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You know who you are, but know not who you could be.
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That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough no more: 'Tis not so sweet as it was before.
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I that please some, try all, both joy and terror Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error.
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But when I came, alas, to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.
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Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
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Sweet are the uses of adversity
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Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.
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I will not choose what many men desire, Because I will not jump with common spirits And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
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So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.
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