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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
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
Heart
Oath
Love
Agent
Life
Honour
Agents
Sweet
Lines
Hand
Pawn
Hands
Pawns
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I can counterfeit the deep tragedian Speak and look back, and pry on every side, Tremble and start, at wagging of a straw, Intending deep suspicion.
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A good heart 'is worth gold.
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Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
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Courage mounteth with occasion.
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But it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, which, by often rumination, wraps me in the most humorous sadness.
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Life... is a paradise to what we know of death.
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The force of his own merit makes his way-a gift that heaven gives for him.
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See first that the design is wise and just: that ascertained, pursue it resolutely do not for one repulse forego the purpose that you resolved to effect.
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When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.
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More of your conversation would infect my brain.
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Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
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Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs.
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Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir.
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The apparel oft proclaims the man.
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she shall scant show well that now shows best.
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If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes. If the winds rages, doth not the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin with its big-swoll'n face? And wilt though have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth.
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Come, go with us, speak fair you may salve so, Not what is dangerous present, but the los Of what is past.
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We have some salt of our youth in us.
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Light seeking light doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
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Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow.
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