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Who soars too near the sun, with golden wings, melts them.
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
Sun
Soars
Melts
Soar
Near
Golden
Wings
Ambition
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Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.
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It is thyself, mine own self's better part Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart My food, my fortune, and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim.
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Who can control his fate?
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Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him.
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Though men can cover crimes with bold, stern looks, poor women's faces are their own faults' books.
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
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Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie. Romeo: In bed asleep while they do dream things true.
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Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly.
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My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
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Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
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Nice customs curtsy to great kings.
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Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
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What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.
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Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.
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What a deformed thief this fashion is.
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When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy, over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor.
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His life was gentle and the elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN!
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Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light
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My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
William Shakespeare