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... the spring, the summer, The chilling autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries and the mazed world By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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
Winter
Increase
Angry
Summer
Spring
Wonted
Change
Chilling
Time
Chill
World
Autumn
More quotes by William Shakespeare
He who has injured thee was either stronger or weaker than thee. If weaker, spare him if stronger, spare thyself.
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Great griefs medicine the less.
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Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.
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Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.
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I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.
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The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down.
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ROMEO to BALTHASAR But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry In what I further shall intend to do, By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
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Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep.
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The villany you teach me I shall execute and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.
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Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream
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Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me
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The prize of all too precious you.
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How slow This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires, Like to a stepdame, or a dowager, Long withering out a young man's revenue.
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There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
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Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun it shines everywhere.
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Who has a book of all that monarchs do, He's more secure to keep it shut than shown For vice repeated is like the wand'ring wind, Blows dust in others' eye, to spread itself And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear To stop the air would hurt them.
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'Tis not to make me jealous To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.
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Blood will have blood.
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Love goes toward love.
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This thought is as a death.
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