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Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.
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
Fairs
Fair
Holy
Wise
Silvia
Commend
Fairness
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Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the law 'twill hardly come out.
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O, this life Is nobler than attending for a check, Richer than doing nothing for a robe, Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk: Such pain the cap of him that makes him fine Yet keeps his book uncrossed.
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Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.
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He does it with better grace, but I do it more natural.
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Waste not thy time in windy argument but let the matter drop.
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By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust ensuing danger as, by proof, we see the waters swell before a boisterous storm.
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I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking so full of valor that they smote the air, for breathing in their faces, beat the ground for kissing of their feet.
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Love goes toward love.
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A kind Of excellent dumb discourse.
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I could be well content To entertain the lag-end of my life With quiet hours.
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An angel or, if not, An earthly paragon.
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Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short youth is nimble, age is lame Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold Youth is wild, and age is tame.
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Every thing that grows / Holds in perfection but a little moment.
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You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.
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Hear the meaning within the word.
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You have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I have a soul of lead.
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We few. We happy few. We band of brothers, for he today That sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.
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I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you
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