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Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire.
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
Men
Mire
Sinner
Weak
Honest
Water
Left
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I bear a charmed life.
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There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings.
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By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it save I alone.
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Time is the king of men.
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My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent.
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O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.
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Who has a book of all that monarchs do, He's more secure to keep it shut than shown For vice repeated is like the wand'ring wind, Blows dust in others' eye, to spread itself And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear To stop the air would hurt them.
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The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand.
William Shakespeare
But indeed an old religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an inland man one that knew courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it and I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched with so many giddy offenses as he hath generally taxed their whole sex withal.
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And send him many years of sunshine days!
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Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.
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To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!
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Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, A good mouth-filling oath.
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Take it in what sense thou wilt.
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My dear, dear Lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation that away Men are but gilded loan or painted clay... Mine honor is my life both grow in one Take honor from me, and my life is done.
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Be checked for silence, But never taxed for speech.
William Shakespeare
I had rather be a Kitten, and cry mew, Than one of these same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I had rather heare a Brazen Candlestick turn'd, Or a dry Wheele grate on the Axle-tree, And that would set my teeth nothing an edge, Nothing so much, as mincing Poetrie.
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You are thought here to the most senseless and fit man for the job.
William Shakespeare
O how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have, and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again.
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We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.
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