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See the minutes, how they run, How many make the hour full complete How many hours bring about the day How many days will finish up the year How many years a mortal man may live.
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
Running
Complete
May
Hour
Live
Minutes
Many
Bring
Years
Full
Make
Days
Mortal
Men
Year
Finish
Time
Hours
Mortals
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Before, I loved thee as a brother, John, But now, I do respect thee as my soul.
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Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
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Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
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That in the captains but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
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Because I cannot flatter and look fair, Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, I must be held a rancorous enemy.
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Boldness be my friend.
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To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
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From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing.
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Wishers were ever fools.
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I heard a bird so sing, Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
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This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.
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The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
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Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt he owes For every word.
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Is he on his horse? O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
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In religion, What damned error but some sober brow Will bless it, and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
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Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
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O, how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors.
William Shakespeare
Shall remain! Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute 'shall'?
William Shakespeare
Let the end try the man.
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Put on The dauntless spirit of resolution.
William Shakespeare