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I cannot, nor I will not hold me still My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
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
Though
Cannot
Stills
Still
Heart
Tongue
Hold
Shall
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod.
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Full many a glorious morn I have seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.
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For though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.
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And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother
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The thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility yet am I inland bred And know some nurture.
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Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.
William Shakespeare
Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have.
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So our virtues lie in the interpretation of the time
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If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.
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Yon grey lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
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It is a wise father that knows his own child.
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So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
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Die for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight
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GLOUCESTER: Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty and so many my defects, As I had rather hide me from my greatness, Being a bark to brook no mighty sea, Than in my greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my glory smother'd. But God be thanked. . . .
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To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.
William Shakespeare
A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff.
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Anger's my meat. I sup upon myself, And so shall starve with feeding.
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A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant.
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O England! Model to thy inward greatness, like little body with a might heart.
William Shakespeare