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And be these juggling friends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.
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
Friends
Hope
Sense
Juggling
Keep
Double
Ears
Promise
Break
Word
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Well could he ride, and often men would say, That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes! And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
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Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee.
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I must be cruel, only to be kind.
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Th abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.
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Exit, pursued by a bear.
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There should be hours for necessities, not for delights times to repair our nature with comforting repose, and not for us to waste these times.
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Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?
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A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers.
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I see, sir, you are liberal in offers. You taught me first to beg, and now methinks You teach me how a beggar should be answered.
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There was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently
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Wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
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O tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide!
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Ay, but hearken, sir though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat.
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The curse of marriage That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites!
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No reckoning made, but sent to my account with all my imperfections on my head.
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How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.
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You are made Rather to wonder at the things you hear Than to work any.
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Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither. Ripeness is all.
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Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry
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No profit grows where no pleasure is taken.
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