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On a day - alack the day! - Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air
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
Life
Fair
Air
Spied
Whose
Wanton
Months
Blossom
Playing
Month
May
Passings
Ever
Fairs
Love
Passing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
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Cowards die many times before their deaths The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
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Greatest scandal waits on greatest state.
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The language I have learnt these forty years, My native English, now I must forgo And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol or a harp, Or like a cunning instrument cased up Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
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in black ink my love may still shine bright.
William Shakespeare
Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat Of habits devil, is angel yet in this.
William Shakespeare
Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
William Shakespeare
It is the witness still of excellency to put a strange face on his own perfection.
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When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will
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And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
William Shakespeare
So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough.
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A heavier task could not have been impos'd, Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable.
William Shakespeare
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
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O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
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No profit grows where no pleasure is taken.
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Bring me a constant woman to her husband, One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure, And to that woman, when she has done most, Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.
William Shakespeare
Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden.
William Shakespeare
Wait for the season when to cast good counsels upon subsiding passion.
William Shakespeare
I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
William Shakespeare
Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear.
William Shakespeare