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The voice of parents is the voice of gods, for to their children they are heaven's lieutenants.
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
Children
Gods
Meaningful
God
Parents
Parent
Heaven
Family
Lieutenants
Voice
Parenting
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.
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Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
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Sweet are the uses of adversity
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Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge of thine own cause.
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Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
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Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try.
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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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There is a law in each well-ordered nation To curb those raging appetites that are Most disobedient and refractory.
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For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger At whose approach ghosts wandring here and there Troop home to church-yards.... For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully exile themselves from light, And must for aye consort with black brow'd night.
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Liberty plucks justice by the nose The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum.
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You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age wretched in both.
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Will Fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest terms?
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What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!
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And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
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The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.
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May never glorious sun reflex his beams Upon the country where you make abode! But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Environ you till mischief and despair Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves.
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One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.
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I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
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There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history, fully unfold.
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Come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them.
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