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I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
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
Walked
Lady
Lips
Touch
Would
Nether
Barefoot
Venice
Palestine
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Where shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done, when the battle 's lost and won
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Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offense?
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I was born free as Caesar so were you
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And the more pity that great folk should have count'nance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their even-Christen.
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I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.
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Well, honor is the subject of my story.
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We wound our modesty and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.
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I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.
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Even as one heat another heat expels, or as one nail by strength drives out another, so the remembrance of my former love is by a newer object quite forgotten.
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I have touched the highest point of all my greatness.
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Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
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My friends were poor, but honest, so's my love.
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The weakest goes to the wall.
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'Tis the soldier's life to have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
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Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, So am I driven by breath of her renown Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive Where I may have fruition of her love.
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Two households, both alike in dignity In fair Verona, where we lay our scene From ancient grudge break to new mutiny Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
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I am now of all humors that have showed themselves humors since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
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Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
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As there comes light from heaven and words from breath, As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue
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