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This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!
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
Coward
Hills
Bed
Flesh
Sanguine
Huge
Breaker
Horseback
Sassy
Hill
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Our wills and fates do so contrary run, That our devices still are overthrown Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
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'Tis not to make me jealous To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.
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They say, the tongues of dying men Enforce attention, like deep harmony Where words are scarce, they're seldom spent in vain For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain.
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Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights Four nights will quickly dream away the time And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.
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Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?
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Make not your thoughts your prisons.
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The gates of monarchs Are arched so high that giants may jet through And keep their impious turbans on without Good morrow to the sun.
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But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.
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Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.
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Barnes are blessings.
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O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.
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Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us anything.
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It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught as men take diseases, one of another.
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A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant.
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Truth needs no color beauty, no pencil.
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Educated men are so impressive.
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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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Though men can cover crimes with bold, stern looks, poor women's faces are their own faults' books.
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When we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools.
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I love thee, I love thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.
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