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Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.
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
Wells
Bite
Well
Hook
Bites
Culinary
Fish
Fishes
Cooking
Food
Bait
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
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The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue!
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Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud And after summer evermore succeeds Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
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Omittance is no quittance.
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April ... hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
William Shakespeare
What, man, defy the devil. Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
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Heaven is above all yet there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
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How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
William Shakespeare
Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*
William Shakespeare
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.
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By-and-by is easily said.
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No particular scandal one can touch but it confounds the breather.
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You told a lie, an odious damned lie Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie.
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Nature, as it grows again toward earth, is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.
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Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
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This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.
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That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold What hath quenched them hath given me fire.
William Shakespeare
In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
William Shakespeare
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
William Shakespeare
Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.
William Shakespeare