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Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounce it to you, trippingly on the tongue but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
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
Praying
Spoke
Speech
Town
Player
Mouth
Stage
Players
Lief
Lines
Towns
Crier
Speak
Tongue
Pronounce
Many
Pray
Whirlwind
Mouths
Spokes
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.
William Shakespeare
O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
William Shakespeare
Never anger made good guard for itself.
William Shakespeare
One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.
William Shakespeare
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
William Shakespeare
A man I am cross'd with adversity.
William Shakespeare
What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
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Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.
William Shakespeare
Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.
William Shakespeare
And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
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Death lies on her like an untimely frost.
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Ships are but boards, sailors but men there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I mean pirates, and thenthere is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks.
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What can be happier than for a man, conscious of virtuous acts, and content with liberty, to despise all human affairs?
William Shakespeare
If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.
William Shakespeare
Yon grey lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
William Shakespeare
Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
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Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.
William Shakespeare
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
William Shakespeare
So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by.
William Shakespeare
The plants look up to heaven, from whence they have their nourishment.
William Shakespeare