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Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
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
Kiss
Kissing
Come
Wench
Wenches
Taming
Kate
More quotes by William Shakespeare
To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.
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A right judgment draws us a profit from all things we see .
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Who soars too near the sun, with golden wings, melts them.
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And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.
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Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
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In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
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Let them obey that knows not how to rule.
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Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
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I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me.
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The iron tongue of Midnight hath told twelve lovers, to bed 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outstep the coming morn as much as we this night over-watch'd.
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Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
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I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
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Time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.
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You have too much respect upon the world They lose it that do buy it with much care
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There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.
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There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee.
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A miracle. Here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity. Beatrice: I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Benedick: Peace. I will stop your mouth.
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Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns.
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And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
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A book? O, rare one, Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment Nobler than that it covers.
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