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Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
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
Heart
Privilege
Heed
Dear
Knife
Large
Doth
Lose
Knives
Loses
Edge
Art
Ill
Used
Edges
Take
Hardest
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death.
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This is the third time I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.
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Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
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Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
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Past and to come, seems best things present, worse.
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What valor were it, when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth, when he might spurn him with his foot away?
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An arrant traitor as any is in the universal world, or in France, or in England.
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Away! Thou'rt poison to my blood.
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Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canter dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all.
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Oh what fools we mortals are.
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He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.
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The course of true love never did run smooth.
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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Th abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.
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Men that make Envy and crooked malice nourishment, Dare bite the best.
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Refrain to-night And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either master the devil or throw him out With wondrous potency.
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If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!
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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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The color of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.
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For as a surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings, Or as tie heresies that men do leave Are hated most of those they did deceive, So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, Of all be hated, but the most of me!
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