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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
Speak
Tongue
Pronounce
Many
Pray
Whirlwind
Mouths
Spokes
Praying
Spoke
Speech
Town
Player
Mouth
Stage
Players
Lief
Lines
Towns
Crier
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Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
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Let men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.
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Lord Bacon told Sir Edward Coke when he was boasting, The less you speak of your greatness, the more shall I think of it.
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Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
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I am giddy, expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense.
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Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves.
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Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there?
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These violent delights have violent ends And in their triump die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume
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Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
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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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So may the outward shows be least themselves The world is still deceived with ornament.
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Double, double, toil and trouble Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!
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For precious friends hid in death's dateless night.
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To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe, And so your follies fight against yourself. Fear, and be slain--so worse can come to fight And fight and die is death destroying death, Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
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It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.
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A woman impudent and mannish grown Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man.
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How well he's read, to reason against reading!
William Shakespeare
My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
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Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar Above the morning lark.
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How low am I, thou painted maypole?
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