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So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown When judges have been babes great floods have flown From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
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
Great
Sea
Judges
Judging
Sources
Babes
Judgment
Flood
Flown
Source
Miracles
Writ
Holy
Shown
Floods
Greatest
Hath
Dried
Results
Denied
Seas
Simple
Miracle
Babe
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Constant you are, But yet a woman and for secrecy, No lady closer for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.
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It is thyself, mine own self's better part Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.
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Nature's tears are reason's merriment.
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Reputation is an idle and most false imposition oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
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As good luck would have it, comes in one Mistress Page, gives intelligence of Ford's approach, and in her invention, and Ford's wife's distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket.
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With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
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The trust I have is in mine innocence, and therefore am I bold and resolute.
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Zounds! sir, you are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bid you.
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Glory grows guilty of detested crimes.
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Yield not thy neck To fortunes yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
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No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?
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Sin, that amends, is but patched with virtue.
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
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Grace and remembrance be to you both.
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Who is here so vile that will not love his country?
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Out of this nettle - danger - we pluck this flower - safety.
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Muster your wits stand in your own defence.
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As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another The third o' th' world is yours, which with a snaffle You may pace easy, but not such a wife.
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A glooming peace this morning with it brings The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
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