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He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
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
Use
Shoots
Like
Stalking
Presentation
Uses
Wit
Folly
Horse
Fool
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To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.
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How sometimes nature will betray its folly, Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms!
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The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
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Love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams Driving back shadows over low'ring hills. Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw Love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
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Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But like a thrifty goddess she determines Herself the glory of a creditor,Both thanks and use.
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Hang him, swaggering rascal!
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Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency?
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How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
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I am not in the roll of common men.
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What is thy sentence then but speechless death.
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When I waked, I cried to dream again
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Ay, is it not a language I speak?
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Robust grass endures mighty winds loyal ministers emerge through ordeal.
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I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
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True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.
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