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Full many a glorious morn I have seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.
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
Green
Sovereign
Full
Pale
Seen
Streams
Gilding
Face
Heavenly
Morn
Faces
Glorious
Tops
Eye
Golden
Flatter
Light
Kissing
Alchemy
Many
Mountain
Meadows
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You kiss by th' book.
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Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash ’tis something, nothing ’twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
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Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
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For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
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Many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing.
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The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand.
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He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.
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Loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
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These blessed candles of the night.
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The weary sun hath made a golden set And by the bright tract of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
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Better be with the dead, Whom we to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.
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Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words. Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord? Hamlet: Between who? Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
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Nature does require her time of preservation, which perforce, I her frail son amongst my brethren mortal, must give my attendance to.
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Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age?
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Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
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We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
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Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'd a blessed time for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys renown, and grace is dead The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
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Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one
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O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
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All that glitters is not gold.
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