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You abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone.
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
Ability
Much
Like
Sassy
Infant
Abilities
Alone
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
William Shakespeare
Truly the souls of men are full of dread: Ye cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily and full of fear.
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This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf...Cupid.
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More of your conversation would infect my brain.
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To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.
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Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
William Shakespeare
Nor aught so good but strained from that fair use, Revolts from true birth stumbling on abuse.
William Shakespeare
I have a bone to pick with Fate
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Cordelia! stay a little. Ha! What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft.
William Shakespeare
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity.
William Shakespeare
Faint heart never won fair maid.
William Shakespeare
Hamlet: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ophelia: 'Tis brief, my lord. Hamlet: As woman's love.
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Let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them.
William Shakespeare
Why, all delights are vain, but that most vain Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book, To seek the light of truth, which truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.
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A very honest woman but something given to lie
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Who is here so vile that will not love his country?
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You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.
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I have nothing Of woman in me now from head to foot I am marble-constant.
William Shakespeare
Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
William Shakespeare
we are the lords of all eternity
William Shakespeare