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What infinite heart's-ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
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
Men
Private
Save
Kings
Infinite
General
Privates
Enjoy
Ceremony
Must
Neglect
Heart
Ease
More quotes by William Shakespeare
For thou hast given me in this beauteous face A world of earthly blessings to my soul, If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
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This day's black fate on more days doth depend This but begins the woe, others must end.
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Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.
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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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Mine honor is my life, both grow in one. Take honor from me, and my life is done. Then, dear my liege, mine honor let me try In that I live, and for that I will die.
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Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?
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Well, I must be patient there is no fettering of authority.
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Can one desire too much of a good thing?
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This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
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The one I love is the son of the one I hate! -Juliet p. 75
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The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
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Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?
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No place indeed should murder sanctuarize Revenge should have no bounds.
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He says, he loves my daughter I think so too for never gaz'd the moon Upon the water, as he'll stand and read, As 'twere, my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain, I think, there is not half a kiss to choose, Who loves another best.
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Affection, mistress of passion, sways it to the mood of what it likes or loathes.
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My long sickness Of health and living now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things.
William Shakespeare
For she had eyes and chose me.
William Shakespeare
I have supped full with horrors.
William Shakespeare
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
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I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
William Shakespeare