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Against self-slaughter There is a prohibition so divine That cravens my weak hand.
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
Suicide
Weak
Divine
Hand
Hands
Self
Prohibition
Slaughter
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This thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.
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Who is it can read a woman?
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Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice And could of men distinguish her election, Sh'ath sealed thee for herself.
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But fish not with this melancholy bait For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
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O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
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Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
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Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
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Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth
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We are not the first Who with best meaning have incurred the worst
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The devil knew what he did when he made men politic he crossed himself by it.
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The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down.
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Sometimes we are devils to ourselves When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency.
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