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To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
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
Gust
Defence
Grant
Grants
Mercy
Sin
Kill
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Ingrateful man with liquorish draughts, and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind that from it all consideration slips.
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See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He that but fears the thing he would not know, Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes, That what he feared is chanced.
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thus with a kiss I die
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If people knew how much I hated them, they'd love me for holding it in.
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She moves me not, or not removes at least affection's edge in me.
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Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
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Sweets to the sweet.
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Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But like a thrifty goddess she determines Herself the glory of a creditor,Both thanks and use.
William Shakespeare
Exit, pursued by a bear.
William Shakespeare
Refrain to-night And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either master the devil or throw him out With wondrous potency.
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Oh! it offends me to the soul to hear a robust periwig-pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings.
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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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There's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December.
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Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful Mine ears, that heard her flattery nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.
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The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
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Two women placed together makes cold weather.
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Cursed be he that moves my bones.
William Shakespeare
Be checked for silence, But never taxed for speech.
William Shakespeare
He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer.
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So may I, blind fortune leading me, Miss that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.
William Shakespeare