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Why, all delights are vain but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.
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
Delights
Doth
Vain
Delight
Pain
Inherit
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We do pray for mercy, and that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy.
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But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot? Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
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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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He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache
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And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother
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For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
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Be still prepared for death: and death or life shall thereby be the sweeter.
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Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.
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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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Take pains. Be perfect.
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He does me double wrong That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
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Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
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We are such stuff that dreams are made of.
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