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Never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.
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
Never
Amiss
Midsummer
Tender
Simplicity
Duty
Anything
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Yet, do thy worst, old Time despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.
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Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
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The eagle suffers little birds to sing.
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Words pay no debts, give her deeds.
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Men at sometime are the masters of their fate.
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Let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them.
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The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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It is the disease of not listening...... that I am troubled with.
William Shakespeare
He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need: If thou sorrow, he will weep If thou wake, he cannot sleep: Thus of every grief in heart He with thee does bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.
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O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven
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She told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love, but if she lost it Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After new fancies.
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Ay, Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
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Falsehood falsehood cures
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Pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
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For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
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How much salt water thrown away in waste/ To season love, that of it doth not taste.
William Shakespeare
A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting The perfume and suppliance of a minute No more.
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Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.
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Your praises will become your wages.
William Shakespeare
Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights Four nights will quickly dream away the time And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.
William Shakespeare