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What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!
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
Within
Eye
Death
Sights
Ugly
Mines
Mine
Sight
Eyes
More quotes by William Shakespeare
If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water drops, Stain my man's cheeks.
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Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
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Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!
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On pain of death, no person be so bold.
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I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me.
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Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.
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O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
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Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma or a hideous dream.
William Shakespeare
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.
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Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
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Wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
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I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so.
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And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?
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Men that hazard all Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
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By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate And with my hand I seal my true heart's love
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Then know, that I have little wealth to lose. A man I am, crossed with adversity My riches are these poor habiliments, Of which if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I have.
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Nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility.
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I am falser than vows made in wine.
William Shakespeare
Full fathom five thy father lies
William Shakespeare
She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a woeful ditty How love makes young men thrall and old men dote How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, And still the choir of echoes answer so.
William Shakespeare