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She will die if you love her not, And she will die ere she might make her love known
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
Love
Dies
Known
Might
Make
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Nay, do not think I flatter. For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?
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Sweet are the uses of adversity
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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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For I can raise no money by vile means.
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Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.
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The cheek Is apter than the tongue to tell an errand.
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If I shall be condemned Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake, I tell you 'Tis rigor and not law.
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So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.
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Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, But to procrastinate his liveless end.
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Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
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The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility.
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we are the lords of all eternity
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They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
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Delivers in such apt and gracious words that aged ears play truant at his tales And younger hearings are quite ravished So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
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Love's stories written in love's richest books. To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
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In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.
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O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou has no name to be known by, let us call thee devil....O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
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They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.
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Patience is sottish, and impatience does become a dog that's mad.
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Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return to plague the inventor.
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