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Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden.
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
Make
Fairness
Join
Sudden
Fairs
Fair
Grief
Woman
Ends
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Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!
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My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
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Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
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Strikes deeper, grows with more pernicious root.
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How much an ill word may empoison liking!
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There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
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He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
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You, and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness!
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For 'tis the sport to have the engineerHoist with his own petard.
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Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm With favour never clasp'd but bred a dog.
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O, call back yesterday, bid time return
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Angels and ministers of grace defend us.
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Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.
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My love admits no qualifying dross
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Ambition, the soldier's virtue.
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Thoughts are but dreams till their effects are tried.
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We are oft to blame in this, - 'tis too much proved, - that with devotion's visage, and pios action we do sugar o'er the devil himself.
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We cannot all be masters.
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Hold, or cut bowstrings.
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