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What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.
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
Idiots
Govern
Eras
Idiot
Blind
Terrible
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My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date But when in thee time's furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate.
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Discharge my followers let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.
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Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.
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A flock of blessings light upon thy back
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The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart-see, they bark at me.
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Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
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Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
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What a fool honesty is.
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Let men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.
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By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word approve me, lord.
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The cunning livery of hell.
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The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself
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I am ill at these numbers.
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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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Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep.
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Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary
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A great cause of the night is lack of the sun.
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How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.
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I am not of that feather, to shake off my friend when he must need me
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The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
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