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But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike.
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
Dignity
Whose
Differs
Clay
Alike
Dust
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land the great ones eat up the little ones.
William Shakespeare
But as the unthought-on accident is guilty To what we wildly do, so we profess Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies Of every wind that blows.
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Live how we can, yet die we must.
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Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
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There is plenty of time to sleep in the grave
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Of all complexions the culled sovereignty Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek, Where several worthies make one dignity, Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
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She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
William Shakespeare
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.
William Shakespeare
We will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
William Shakespeare
Let's all cry peace, freedom, and liberty!
William Shakespeare
Now I am past all comforts here, but prayer.
William Shakespeare
Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. Then your love would also change.
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Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt he owes For every word.
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Out, you tallow-face! You baggage!
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There's nothing in this world can make me joy: Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
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Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age?
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How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!
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To die: - to sleep: No more and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.
William Shakespeare
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
William Shakespeare
GLOUCESTER: I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds, More than the infant that is born to-night: I thank my God for my humility.
William Shakespeare