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Under the colour of commending him I have access my own love to prefer But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
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
Prefer
Silvia
Fairs
Commending
Fair
Corrupted
Charity
Fairness
Access
Worthless
Holy
Gifts
True
Love
Colour
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
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Every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.
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For to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
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O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
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As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance
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Give me mine angle, we'll to th' river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finned fishes. My bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws and as I draw them up, I'll think them every one an Antony, And say, 'Ah, ha! are caught!'
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Give me my robe, put on my crown I have Immortal longings in me.
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Speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words.
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If thou couldst, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud you again.
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The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
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Glendower: I can call the spirits from the vasty deep. Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man But will they come, when you do call for them?
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Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
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To persist in doing wrong extenuates not the wrong, but makes it much more heavy.
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What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.
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Too much to know is to know nought but fame And every godfather can give a name.
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Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's.
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There is no creature loves me And if I die, no soul will pity me.
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And be these juggling friends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.
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O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.-Helena
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Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings that fear their subjects treachery?
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