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O my good lord, that comfort comes too late, 'Tis like a pardon after execution. That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me But now I am past all comforts here but prayers.
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
Past
Execution
Good
Gentle
Time
Comfort
Like
Late
Physic
Prayer
Comforts
Lord
Cured
Comes
Pardon
Given
Prayers
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Oh, injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror
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Honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
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So many hours must I take my rest So many hours must I contemplate.
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Silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
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In religion, What damned error but some sober brow Will bless it, and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
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I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, Too far in years to be a pupil now.
William Shakespeare
When thou cam'st first, Thou strok'st me and made much of me wouldst give me Water with berries in't and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night and then I loved thee And showed thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
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To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans coy looks, with heart-sore sighs one fading moment's mirth
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On your eyelids crown the god of sleep, Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep As is the difference betwixt day and night The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east.
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These violent delights have violent ends.
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Men at sometime are the masters of their fate.
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Oh, I am fortune's fool!
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For to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
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Your if is the only peacemaker much virtue in if.
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And she's fair I love.
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for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
William Shakespeare
What, can the devil speak true?
William Shakespeare
How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.
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If your mind dislike anything obey it
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By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.
William Shakespeare