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If I for my opinion bleed, opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, and keep me on the side where still I am.
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
Side
Shall
Sides
Hurt
Opinion
Keep
Surgeon
Stills
Bleed
Still
Surgeons
More quotes by William Shakespeare
She is your treasure, she must have a husband I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day, And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell.
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Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on his back.
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Yea from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records.
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All things are ready, if our mind be so.
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His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.
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The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many thing by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
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O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
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So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.
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He must needs go that the devil drives.
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Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings that fear their subjects treachery?
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If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety.
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If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
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Weed your better judgments of all opinion that grows rank in them.
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Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty look, repeats his words, Remembers me of his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form
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The instances that second marriage move Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.
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All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy.
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Ships are but boards, sailors but men.
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If money go before, all ways do lie open.
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Love laughs at locksmiths.
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Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity
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