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That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough no more: 'Tis not so sweet as it was before.
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
Enough
Breathe
Giving
Ears
Odour
Love
Dying
Violets
Like
Sweet
Breathes
Came
Violet
Upon
Strain
Sound
Bank
Fall
Stealing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women mearly players.
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Although the last, not least.
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Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
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He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
William Shakespeare
For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger At whose approach ghosts wandring here and there Troop home to church-yards.... For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully exile themselves from light, And must for aye consort with black brow'd night.
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Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.
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I would that I were low laid in my grave. I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
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What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
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O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!
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We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body.
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Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
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The devil knew what he did when he made men politic he crossed himself by it.
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He took the bride about the neck and kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack that at the parting all the church did echo.
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Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad.
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It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass, In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding Sweet lovers love the spring.
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Upon his royal face there is no note how dread an army hath enrounded him.
William Shakespeare
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
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Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word.
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You know who you are, but know not who you could be.
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Men in rage strike those that wish them best.
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