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Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
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
Trifle
Trifles
Alas
Love
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Let them obey that knows not how to rule.
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I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
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O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art.
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Be cheerful wipe thine eyes: Some falls are means the happier to arise
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Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.
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Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
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Cowards die many times before their deaths the valiant never taste of death but once.
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This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.
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Who wooed in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
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Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.
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A time, methinks, too short To make a world-without-end bargain in.
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Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.
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what cannot be saved when fate takes, patience her injury a mockery makes
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Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die!
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Ingratitude is monstrous and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude of which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
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Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.
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That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack, when it begins to rain, And leave thee in a storm.
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Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
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What is aught but as 'tis valued?
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Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.
William Shakespeare