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Till our King Henry had shook hands with 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
Hands
Shook
Henry
Till
King
Kings
Death
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Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace. Leave gormandizing.
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On pain of death, no person be so bold.
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To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
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Life is as tedious as twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
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To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
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Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
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The mightier man, the mightier is the thing That makes him honored or begets him hate For greatest scandal waits on greatest state.
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Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity?
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A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
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To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.
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Fight valiantly to-day and yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, for thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.
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There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't
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When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.
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Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
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I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part of this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.
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Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph.
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I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.
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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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You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
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