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Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
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
Great
Thanksgiving
Cheer
Memorable
Holiday
Welcome
Errors
Feasting
Small
Feast
Makes
Merry
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Hang him, swaggering rascal!
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To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
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Why, who cries out on pride that can therein tax any private party? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea till the weary very means do ebb?
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You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller.
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You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.
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We have seen better days.
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She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
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Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you, undo this button.
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Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand And send it to the King: he for the same Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
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O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.
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O Death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
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So many hours must I take my rest So many hours must I contemplate.
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Through tattered clothes, small vices do appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all.
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness.
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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
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Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone.
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At Christmas, I no more desire a rose.
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More of your conversation would infect my brain.
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