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If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
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
Revenge
Bear
Shylock
Merchants
Ancient
Grudge
Bears
Hips
Upon
Feed
Fats
Catch
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s.
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A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
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The object of Art is to give life a shape.
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If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no epilogue.
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Pray, do not mock me. I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
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Fight valiantly to-day and yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, for thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.
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We few. We happy few. We band of brothers, for he today That sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.
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And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, Contagious blastments are are most imminent.
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You speak an infinite deal of nothing.
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I am ill at these numbers.
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Let the galled jade wince our withers are unwrung.
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What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?
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And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.
William Shakespeare
The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens.
William Shakespeare
The hideous god of war.
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Remuneration! O! That's the Latin word for three farthings
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Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth.
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How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
William Shakespeare
O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!
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Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet--nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.
William Shakespeare