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O excellent! I love long life better than figs.
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
Better
Long
Love
Life
Figs
Excellent
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Speak comfortable words.
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Fall Greeks fail fame honour or go or stay My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
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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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I have full cause of weeping, but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws or ere I'll weep.
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For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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A beggar's book outworths a noble's blood.
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In limited professions there's boundless theft.
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It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
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The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
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Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
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Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!
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Then imitate the action of the tiger stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
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Put money in thy purse.
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The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase The dove pursues the griffin the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.
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A smile cures the wounding of a frown.
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When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men for thus sings he, Cuckoo Cuckoo, cuckoo O, word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
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But when the fox hath once got in his nose, He'll soon find means to make the body follow.
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I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear
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I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
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Such antics do not amount to a man.
William Shakespeare