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Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
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
Men
Comfort
Suggest
Like
Woman
Spirits
Spirit
Ill
Two
Fairs
Stills
Fair
Still
Loves
Better
Despair
Coloured
Right
Angel
Fairness
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Things may serve long, but not serve ever.
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Thus we play the fool with the time and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.
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Lay on, McDuff, and be damned he who first cries, 'Hold, enough!
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Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away
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Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
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Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there.
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For my own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
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O comfort-killing night, image of hell, Dim register and notary of shame, Black stage for tragedies and murders fell, Vast sin-concealing chaos, nurse of blame!
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To England will I steal, and there I'll steal.
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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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Contention, like a horse, Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, And bears down all before him.
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Past and to come, seems best things present, worse.
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Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes then little strength rings out the doleful knell.
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No evil lost is wailed when it is gone.
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Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.
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Yet, do thy worst, old Time despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
William Shakespeare
One whom the music of his own vain tongue doth ravish like enchanting harmony.
William Shakespeare
A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
William Shakespeare
I have sounded the very base-string of humility.
William Shakespeare