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If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.
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
Condemn
Memorable
Played
Fiction
Stage
Upon
Improbable
More quotes by William Shakespeare
My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date But when in thee time's furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate.
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Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind.
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I thought my heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.
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Cowards die many times before their deaths the valiant never taste of death but once.
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Strong reasons make strong actions let us go If you say ay, the king will not say no.
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As chaste as unsunned snow.
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Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous.
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The best is yet to come.
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To go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes
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O shame, where is thy blush?
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My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me!
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Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there?
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Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well
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On pain of death, no person be so bold.
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Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence, But never tax'd for speech.
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Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog.
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Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining.
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GLOUCESTER: Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty and so many my defects, As I had rather hide me from my greatness, Being a bark to brook no mighty sea, Than in my greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my glory smother'd. But God be thanked. . . .
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Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I ha' lost my reputation, I ha' lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial!
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