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The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
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
Still
Love
Sometime
Follows
Thank
Trouble
Stills
More quotes by William Shakespeare
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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Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
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When I have plucked the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither. I'll smell it on the tree.
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And mind, with my heart in't and now farewell Till half an hour hence.
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Good things should be praised.
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There was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
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Hot blood begets hot thoughts, And hot thoughts beget Hot deeds, And hot deeds is love.
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But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose but Fortune, O!
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If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.
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Making night hideous.
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Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.
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I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much How to forget that learning but, sir, now It did me yeoman's service.
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Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*
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The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue!
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Come give us a taste of your quality.
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Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view.
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My brain more busy than the labouring spider Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
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Prosperity's the very bond of love.
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No, I will be the pattern of all patience I will say nothing.
William Shakespeare
The painful warrior famous for fight, After a thousand victories, once foil'd, Is from the books of honor razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd
William Shakespeare