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I scorn you, scurvy companion.
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
Scurvy
Sassy
Scorn
Companion
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead. Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Shore his old thread in twain.
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Make not your thoughts your prisons.
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In right and service to their noble country.
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But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
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A Loud Laugh Bespeaks a Vacant Mind!
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Though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve.
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Had it pleas'd heaven To try me with affliction * * * I should have found in some place of my soul A drop of patience.
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Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
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Ay, but hearken, sir though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat.
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
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There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.
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Our wills and fates do so contrary run.
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I'll forbear And am fallen out with my more headier will To take the indisposed and sickly fit For the sound man.
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Never anger made good guard for itself.
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So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
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To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature.
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O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable
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What many men desire--that 'many' may be meant By the fool multitude that choose by show, Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach, Which pries not to th' interior, but like the martlet Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty.
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This act is an ancient tale new told And, in the last repeating, troublesome, Being urged at a time unseasonable.
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