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JAQUES: Rosalind is your love's name? ORLANDO: Yes, just. JAQUES: I do not like her name. ORLANDO: There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.
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
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Thought
Love
Like
Rosalind
Christened
Orlando
Pleasing
Name
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love.
William Shakespeare
I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him.
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Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.
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Speak, what trade art thou? Why, sir, a carpenter. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? What does thou with thy best apparel on?
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
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Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.
William Shakespeare
What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish a very ancient and fishlike smell a kind of not of the newest poor-John. A strange fish!
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A tardiness in nature, Which often leaves the history unspoke, That it intends to do.
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God defend the right.
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What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.
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But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
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Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon as done.
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?
William Shakespeare
It is my soul that calls upon my name How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears! -Romeo
William Shakespeare
Nature, as it grows again toward earth, is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.
William Shakespeare
Small to greater matters must give way.
William Shakespeare
Beauty lives with kindness.
William Shakespeare
Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
William Shakespeare
Well could he ride, and often men would say, That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes! And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
William Shakespeare