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Fear no more the heat o' th' sun Nor the furious winters' rages Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
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
Must
Gone
Dust
Impermanence
Girl
Golden
Hast
Sweepers
Fear
Winter
Furious
Lads
Death
Thou
Worldly
Rages
Art
Tasks
Wages
Winters
Home
Sun
Heat
Chimney
Come
Girls
Rage
Chimneys
Done
Dying
Task
Lad
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How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
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So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.
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Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
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Good wine needs no bush.
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I'll be at charges for a looking-glass And entertain a score or two of tailors To study fashions to adorn my body: Since I am crept in favor with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost.
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In God's name cheerly on, courageous friends, To reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war.
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Good luck lies in odd numbers.
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O, Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming, By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought Put on for villainy, not born where't grows, But worn a bait for ladies.
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While he was drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed.
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In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales Of woeful ages, long ago betid
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Gold--what can it not do, and undo?
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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
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Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles.
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The instances that second marriage move Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness.
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So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone.
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O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.
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At once, good night- Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
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I may neither choose who I would, nor refuse who I dislike so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father.
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