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He makes a July's day short as December.
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
December
July
Sarcastic
Short
Makes
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Better be with the dead, Whom we to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.
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Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own read.
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Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest.
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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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For what I will, I will, and there an end.
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Doubt thou the stars are fire Doubt that the sun doth move Doubt truth to be a liar But never doubt I love.
William Shakespeare
How long a time lies in one little word?
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So curses all Eve's daughters of what complexion soever.
William Shakespeare
a wild dedication of yourselves To undiscovered waters, undreamed shores.
William Shakespeare
If I lose my honor, I lose myself: better I were not yours Than yours so branchless.
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A light heart lives long.
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If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion.
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Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious Is to be frightened out of fear.
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For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.
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Literature is a comprehensive essence of the intellectual life of a nation.
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Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
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Henceforth, I'll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself, 'Enough, enough, and die.
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Present mirth hath present laughter. What's to come is still unsure.
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Why should honor outlive honestly? Orthello
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For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy
William Shakespeare