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After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
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
Wells
Poison
Levy
Well
Foreign
Sleeps
Nothing
Touch
Treason
Done
Dying
Memorial
Life
Worst
Malice
Prayer
Fever
Sleep
Domestic
Death
Steel
Fitful
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The poor world is almost six thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause.
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The icy precepts of respect.
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Let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives, Our children, and our sins, lay on the King!
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Every offense is not a hate at first.
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Death-counterfeiting sleep.
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I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear
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Tis but a base, ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.
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The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar but not gone.
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Men must learn now with pity to dispense For policy sits above conscience.
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When holy and devout religious men are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence so sweet is zealous contemplation.
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O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
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Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.
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For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
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I have not slept one wink.
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I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
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The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
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I have trod a measure, I have flattered a lady, I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy.
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Cease thy counsel, for thy words fall into my ears as priceless as water into a seive.
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No visor does become black villainy so well as soft and tender flattery.
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In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.
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