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He doth nothing but talk of his horses.
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
Horses
Horse
Talk
Nothing
Equestrian
Doth
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me.
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Tis but a base, ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.
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O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!
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Lawyers Are: Perilous mouths.
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True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.
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A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)
William Shakespeare
The cheek Is apter than the tongue to tell an errand.
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Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.
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All's well if all ends well.
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But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.
William Shakespeare
The old folk, time's doting chronicles.
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A harmless necessary cat.
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Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house as your pearl in your foul oyster.
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Men at some time are masters of their fates.
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When Death doth close his tender dying eyes.
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A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
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We suffer a lot the few things we lack and we enjoy too little the many things we have.
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Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words
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Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
William Shakespeare