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Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!
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
World
Falstaff
Liars
Lord
Lying
Given
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
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And blind oblivion swallowed cities up.
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As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance
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Good reasons must of force give place to better.
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To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
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I would not lose so great an honor As one man more methinks would share with me For the best hope I have.
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Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
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The time is out of joint.
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This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
William Shakespeare
How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
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Do not banish reason for inequality but let your reason serve to make the truth appear where it seems hid, and hide the false seems true.
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My long sickness Of health and living now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things.
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O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable
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The glowworm shows the matin to be near And gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
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We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
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Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' season Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors, Which some call nature's bastards.
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There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.
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The present eye praises the present object.
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Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.
William Shakespeare
No visor does become black villainy so well as soft and tender flattery.
William Shakespeare