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Take no repulse, whatever she doth say For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.' Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces
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
Though
Flatter
Whatever
Doth
Faces
Flattery
Black
Angels
Away
Angel
Repulse
Take
Praise
Extol
Mean
Grace
Commend
Gone
Graces
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Men from children nothing differ.
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More matter with less art.
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
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Beware the ides of March.
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Life's uncertain voyage.
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And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?
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Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
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This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
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No visor does become black villainy so well as soft and tender flattery.
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Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead!
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Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor.
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Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
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A tardiness in nature, Which often leaves the history unspoke, That it intends to do.
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She told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love, but if she lost it Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After new fancies.
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This above all to thine own self be true.
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To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
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Tis better using France than trusting France Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas, Which He hath given for fence impregnable, And with their helps only defend ourselves In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.
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Where shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done, when the battle 's lost and won
William Shakespeare
Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.
William Shakespeare
Shall we upon the footing of our land Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce, To arms invasive?
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