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Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
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
Quite
Dainty
Rich
Wits
Make
Ribs
Lean
Wit
Fats
Eating
Bits
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.
William Shakespeare
When lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner
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To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
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in that small [time] most greatly lived this star of England: Fortune made his sword, By which the world's best garden he achiev'd And left it to his son imperial lord. Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King of France and England did this King succeed Whose state so many of had the managing, That they lost France and made his England bleed.
William Shakespeare
The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove.
William Shakespeare
Finish, good lady the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark.
William Shakespeare
What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.
William Shakespeare
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings.
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Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.
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My cousin's a fool, and thou art another.
William Shakespeare
The apparel oft proclaims the man.
William Shakespeare
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun it shines everywhere.
William Shakespeare
And simple truth miscalled simplicity
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He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
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Death rock me asleep.
William Shakespeare
Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come
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Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where To lie in cold obstrution and to rot This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
William Shakespeare
Obey thy parents, keep thy word justly swear not commit not with man's sworn spouse set not thy sweet heart on proud array. * * * Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy pen from lenders' books.
William Shakespeare