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The color of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.
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
Come
Kings
Must
Conscience
Heralds
Needs
Battle
Twixt
Like
Color
Dreadful
Break
Battles
Passion
Ripe
Purpose
Doth
Two
King
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Farewell, my sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.
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God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts into one.
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The moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven.
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Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
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Remember thee! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe.
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God grant us patience!
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How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
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But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
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In such business Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant More learned than the ears.
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Diseased Nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions.
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Then imitate the action of the tiger stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
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I do profess to be no less than I seem to serve him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is honest to converse with him that is wise, and says little to fear judgment to fight when I cannot choose and to eat no fish.
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Sound trumpets! Let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave.
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O excellent! I love long life better than figs.
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So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men.
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Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible.
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A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?
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And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
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Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?
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If the boy have not a woman's gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, An onion will do well for such a shift.
William Shakespeare