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Parting is such sweet sorrow
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
Absence
Sorrow
Sweet
Parting
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When lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner
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The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven and as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name such tricks hath strong imagination.
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I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .
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The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
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Dreams are the children of idled minds.
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Poise the cause in justice's equal scales, Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails.
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To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
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Love is a spirit all compact of fire.
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And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.
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Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
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A flock of blessings light upon thy back
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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
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For sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.
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Glendower: I can call the spirits from the vasty deep. Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man But will they come, when you do call for them?
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Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
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With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.
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You are my true and honourable wife As dear to me as the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart.
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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All the world's a stage.
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