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O Lord that lends me life, Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!
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
Heart
Lends
Life
Thankfulness
Lend
Thanksgiving
Gratitude
Lord
Religious
Happiness
Replete
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The course of true love never did run smooth.
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But I will be, A bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a lover's bed.
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I had rather be a toad, and live upon the vapor of a dungeon than keep a corner in the thing I love for others uses.
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God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
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I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
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Costly thy habit [dress] as thy purse can buy But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
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Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
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You are an alchemist make gold of that.
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I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me.
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Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
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He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.
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He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
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I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.
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Lovers ever run before the clock
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The Play's the Thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind.
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And by that destiny to perform an act Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge.
William Shakespeare
What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.
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And teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night.
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Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: This wide and universal theatre Presents more woeful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in.
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