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Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death.
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
Detestable
Womb
Thou
Death
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion
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Time's the king of men he's both their parent, and he is their grave, and gives them what he will, not what they crave.
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Two lovely berries moulded on one stem So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
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Here comes Monseiur Le Beau. Rosalind: With his mouth full of news. Celia: Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rosalind: Then shall we be news-crammed. Celia: All the better we shall be the more marketable.
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Of all base passions, fear is the most accursed.
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Hot blood begets hot thoughts, And hot thoughts beget Hot deeds, And hot deeds is love.
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Stars, hide your fires Let not light see my black and deep desires.
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One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.
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To be merry best becomes you for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour.
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I am sure care's an enemy to life.
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Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward To what they were before.
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In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.
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My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
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Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition: Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away.
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What man dare, I dare. Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The armed rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcan tiger Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble.
William Shakespeare
But there is no such man for, brother, men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel but, tasting it, Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air and agony with words.
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Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead!
William Shakespeare
My love is as a fever, longing still.
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There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind
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Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds, Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.
William Shakespeare