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Keep time! How sour sweet music is when time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. I wasted time and now doth time waste me.
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
Music
Wasted
Men
Proportion
Time
Broke
Kept
Waste
Sweet
Lives
Sour
Keep
Doth
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, Shall win my love.
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The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars as if we were villians by compulsion.
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Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
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The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar but not gone.
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Thou unfit for any place but hell.
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Men should be what they seem Or those that be not, would they might seem none!.
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What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
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As I love the name of honour more than I fear death.
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I am not prone to weeping as our sex commonly are the want of which vain dew perchance shall dry your pities but I have that honorable grief lodged here which burns worse than tears drown.
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Comets importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky And with them scourge the bad revolting stars.
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Love thyself last, cherish those hearts that hate thee Corruption wins not more than honesty.
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What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.
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Being your slave what should I do but tend, Upon the hours, and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend Nor services to do till you require.
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I do repent but heaven hath pleas'd it so To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So again good night. I must be cruel only to be kind. Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.
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The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.
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As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
William Shakespeare
New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let em be unmanly), yet are followed.
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Now the good gods forbid That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude Towards her deserved children is enrolled In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam Should now eat up her own!
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No man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger.
William Shakespeare