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Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.
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
Much
Cassius
Itching
Palm
Palms
Condemned
Greed
Wall
Tell
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And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
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All his successors gone before him have done 't and all his ancestors that come after him may.
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To this urn let those repair That are either true or fair For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
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Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on instinct.
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O comfort-killing night, image of hell, Dim register and notary of shame, Black stage for tragedies and murders fell, Vast sin-concealing chaos, nurse of blame!
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
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Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
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By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate And with my hand I seal my true heart's love
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Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud but, God He knows, thy share thereof is small.
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Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
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But since the affairs of men rests still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
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Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.
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Conceit in weakest bodies works the strongest.
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You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.
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