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I have thrust myself into this maze, Haply to wive and thrive as best I may.
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
Best
Haply
Maze
Mazes
Thrust
Thrive
Marriage
May
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Too nice, and yet too true!
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There is a devilish mercy in the judge, if you'll implore it, that will free your life, but fetter you till death.
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Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied.
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I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
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Truth hath a quiet breast.
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Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none. This above all: to thine own self be true. No legacy is so rich as honesty. Brevity is the soul of wit
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Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
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It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.
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Two may keep counsel putting one away!
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Good luck lies in odd numbers.
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We wound our modesty and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.
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Where is your ancient courage? You were used to say extremities was the trier of spirits That common chances common men could bear That when the sea was calm all boats alike showed mastership in floating.
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I wish you all the joy that you can wish.
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My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smothered in surmise, And nothing is but what is not.
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So now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine, Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.
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Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
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Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
William Shakespeare
My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
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Be not afraid of greatness.
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Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend.
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