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Th abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.
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
Remorse
Abuse
Greatness
Power
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator.
William Shakespeare
Now the good gods forbid That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude Towards her deserved children is enrolled In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam Should now eat up her own!
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For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself pois'd with herself in either eye But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well that now seems best.
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A maiden hath no tongue--but thought.
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Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart?
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Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.
William Shakespeare
There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is. ~William Shakespeare
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The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand.
William Shakespeare
Bow, stubborn knees, and, heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe. All many be well.
William Shakespeare
Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
William Shakespeare
She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
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The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure.
William Shakespeare
Death rock me asleep.
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The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
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All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! you herd of--boils and plagues Plaster you o'er that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile!
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There is a river in Macedon, and there is moreover a river in Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both.
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Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'd a blessed time for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys renown, and grace is dead The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
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My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores Of will and judgment.
William Shakespeare
No legacy is so rich as honesty.
William Shakespeare