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Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
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
Compliment
Manners
Tongue
Courtesies
Turned
Trim
Ones
Melted
Men
Valor
Courtesy
Manhood
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Take but degree away, untune that string, and hark, what discord follows!
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Ten masts make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. Thy life's a miracle.
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Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain
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I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.
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Oh, I have passed a miserable night, so full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams!
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My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient.
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Truth hath a quiet breast.
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I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff, sixpenny strikers, none of these mad, mustachio purple-hued maltworms, but with nobility and tranquillity.
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A flock of blessings light upon thy back
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And in some perfumes there is more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.
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A friend should bear his friend's infirmities.
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A thousand moral paintings I can show That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's More pregnantly than words.
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There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail.
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I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots as a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.
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At Christmas, I no more desire a rose.
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thou art the best o' the cut-throats
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Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars that can count their worth But my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
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Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger
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Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
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There was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
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