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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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
Grief
Joy
Violence
Either
Destroy
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree.
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I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.
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Double, double, toil and trouble Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!
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Love reasons without reason.
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I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess , that your wisdom yet From one that so imperfectly conjects Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
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One sin, I know, another doth provoke. Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke.
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O horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee!
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My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
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You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live
William Shakespeare
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence
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Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.
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O villains, vipers, dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
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Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.
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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?
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'Tis pride that pulls the country down.
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Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee.
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All of Creation’s a farce. Man was born as a joke. In his head his reason is buffeted Like wind-blown smoke. Life is a game. Everyone ridicules everyone else. But he who has the last laugh Laughs longest.
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The let-alone lies not in your good will.
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Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls Conscience is but a work that cowards use, Devised at first to keep the strong in awe: Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law!
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Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward To what they were before.
William Shakespeare