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To you your father should be as a god One that composed your beauties, yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax, By him imprinted, and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it.
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
Figures
Leave
Disfigure
Within
Theseus
Father
Imprinted
Form
Beauties
Power
Composed
Dad
Figure
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The king's name is a tower of strength.
William Shakespeare
O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!
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Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you.
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Diseased Nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions.
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What I have done is yours what I have to do is yours being part in all I have, devoted yours.
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Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe
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Ships are but boards, sailors but men there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I mean pirates, and thenthere is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks.
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All thy vexations Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test here, afore heaven, I ratify this my rich gift.
William Shakespeare
Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
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This feather stirs she lives! if it be so, it is a chance which does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt.
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Lay on, McDuff, and be damned he who first cries, 'Hold, enough!
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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A happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story
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The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
William Shakespeare
Men at sometime are the masters of their fate.
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No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?
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The chameleon Love can feed on the air
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To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder, In the most terrible and nimble stroke Of quick, cross lightning.
William Shakespeare
This liberty is all that I request.
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So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.
William Shakespeare