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Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard.
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
Death
Makes
Hard
Heart
Accustom
Sight
Whose
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.
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Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
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Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.
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Fill all thy bones with aches.
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Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
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The very instant I saw you, did My heart fly to your service there resides To make me slave to it. ...mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want.
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Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
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I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. (Act III, sc. I, 37-38)
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Shall I compare thee to a summer day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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Murder most foul, as in the best it it But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.
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Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.
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May never glorious sun reflex his beams Upon the country where you make abode! But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Environ you till mischief and despair Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves.
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And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, Contagious blastments are are most imminent.
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Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land the great ones eat up the little ones.
William Shakespeare
Olivia: What's a drunken man like, fool? Feste: Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool the second mads him and a third drowns him.
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I bear a charmed life.
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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
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If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.
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The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
William Shakespeare