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They are in the very wrath of love, and they will go together. Clubs cannot part them
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
Wrath
Clubs
Cannot
Part
Together
Love
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.
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I'll note you in my book of memory.
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A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching!
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And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.
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O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
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And thence from Athens turn away our eyes To seek new friends and stranger companies.
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For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas
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But fish not with this melancholy bait For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
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And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.
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What: is the jay more precious than the lark because his feathers are more beautiful?
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We should hold day with the Antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun.
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Speak low, if you speak love.
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
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Yon grey lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
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Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary
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Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land the great ones eat up the little ones.
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Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
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What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?
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To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!
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