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O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.
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
Speaking
Books
Literature
Reading
Book
Eloquence
Breast
Breasts
Dumb
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He that is thy friend indeed, he will help you in your need.
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Their understanding Begins to swell and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shores That now lie foul and muddy.
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Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
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This world to me is like a lasting storm,Whirring me from my friends.
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O God, I could be bound in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space – were it not that I have bad dreams.
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Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining.
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Slanders, sir, for the satirical rogue says here that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging think amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams.
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A happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story
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Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
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You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!
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For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.
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O, reason not the need!
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O tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide!
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Cheerily to sea the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France
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Thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.
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Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand And send it to the King: he for the same Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
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Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked, or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee.
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Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars That make ambition virtue.
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But pearls are fair and the old saying is: Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.
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Light and lust are deadly enemies.
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