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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.
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
Past
Monster
Sized
Back
Hath
Wallets
Done
Puts
Alms
Great
Monsters
Ingratitude
Made
Deeds
Wherein
Good
Fast
Scrap
Scraps
Time
Soon
Forgot
Wallet
Lord
Oblivion
Devour
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Time is the king of men.
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Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.
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Hear me profess sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike, and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather have eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
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'Tis thought the king is dead we will not stay. The bay trees in our country are all wither'd.
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The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens.
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He is not worthy of the honey-comb, that shuns the hives because the bees have stings.
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But virtue never will be mov'd, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven.
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A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
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Blessings of your heart, you brew good ale.
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...lest too light winning make the prize light.
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The caterpillars of the commonwealth, Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
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Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.
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When lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner
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Love laughs at locksmiths.
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Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth.
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Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by
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Patch up thine old body for heaven.
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False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
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O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
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