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Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
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
Sooner
Longing
Fancy
Lost
Women
Fancies
Wavering
Giddy
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My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smothered in surmise, And nothing is but what is not.
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We must follow, not force Providence.
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Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
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He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen, him not know t, and he's not robbed at all.
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For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
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Can one desire too much of a good thing?
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As I love the name of honour more than I fear death.
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If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not
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Should the poor be flattered? No let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, and crook the pregnant hinges of the knee where thrift may follow fawning.
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Set we forward let A Roman and a British ensign wave Friendly together. So through Lud's town march, And in the temple of the great Jupiter Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts. Set on there! Never was a war did cease, Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace.
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