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I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
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
Scratches
Tender
Ass
Horse
Hair
Must
Tickle
Scratch
More quotes by William Shakespeare
That affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence.
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Come, swear it, damn thyself, lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee therefore be double-damned, swear,--thou art honest.
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Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have.
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Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I ha' lost my reputation, I ha' lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial!
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I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
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Despair and die. The ghosts
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I cannot, nor I will not hold me still My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .
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Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling.
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Beware Of entrance to a quarrel.
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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
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Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. Then your love would also change.
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Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.
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How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
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Love`s reason`s without reason
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O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From the world-wearied flesh
William Shakespeare
I love you more than word can wield the matter, Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty
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I can give the loser leave to chide.
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That but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come.
William Shakespeare
Ships are but boards, sailors but men there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I mean pirates, and thenthere is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks.
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