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You peasant swain! You whoreson malt-horse drudge!
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
Swain
Malt
Drudge
Sassy
Peasant
Peasants
Horse
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Some are born great, others achieve greatness.
William Shakespeare
Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
William Shakespeare
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear.
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The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.
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Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep.
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Should the poor be flattered? No let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, and crook the pregnant hinges of the knee where thrift may follow fawning.
William Shakespeare
I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge.
William Shakespeare
Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
William Shakespeare
Slanders, sir, for the satirical rogue says here that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging think amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams.
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By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
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There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.
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Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only Which your disease requires.
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With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
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The Hebrew will turn Christian he grows kind.
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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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Can I go forward when my heart is here?
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O, how full of briers is this working-day world!
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To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.
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What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?
William Shakespeare
Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole.
William Shakespeare