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Death lies on her like an untimely frost.
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
Like
Untimely
Frost
Lies
Lying
Death
More quotes by William Shakespeare
There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by others' death.
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Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow.
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He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
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My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except.
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Polonius: Do you know me, my lord? Hamlet: Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
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O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.
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I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
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But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
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To pore upon a book, to seek the light of truth.
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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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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.
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Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.
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I that please some, try all, both joy and terror Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error.
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A glooming peace this morning with it brings The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o-erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.
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I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance.
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Ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay It useth an enforced ceremony. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, Make gallant show and promise of their mettle But when they should endure the bloody spur, They fall their crests, and like deceitful jades Sink in the trial.
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Who is it can read a woman?
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I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.
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