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Nothing routs us but the villainy of our fears.
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
Villainy
Fears
Fear
Nothing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
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.
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Words are easy, like the wind Faithful friends are hard to find.
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Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
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Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
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Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
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O, Thou hast damnable iteration and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint.
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The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us.
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Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
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Men judge by the complexion of the sky The state and inclination of the day.
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He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
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I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say - I love you
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The southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves, Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
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I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.
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To do a great right do a little wrong.
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If they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground, they hate upon no better a ground
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There is no creature loves me And if I die, no soul will pity me.
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The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease.
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They whose guilt within their bosom lies, imagine every eye beholds their blame.
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One woman is fair, yet I am well another is wise, yet I am well another virtuous, yet I am well but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.
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