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O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!
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
Leave
Inhabit
Memories
Lest
Growing
Breast
Fall
Breasts
Long
Separation
Ruinous
Thou
Mansion
Memory
Dost
Building
Mansions
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week, Or if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
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We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.
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Our wills and fates do so contrary run, That our devices still are overthrown Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
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There is a devilish mercy in the judge, if you'll implore it, that will free your life, but fetter you till death.
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What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood Is there not rain enough in the sweet heaves To wash it white as snow?
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Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.
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I shall the effect of this good lesson keeps as watchman to my heart.
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Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I every man to his business.
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On pain of death, no person be so bold.
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Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.
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Macbeth to Witches: What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire, That look not like th' inhabitants o' th' earth, And yet are on 't?
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Every why has a wherefore.
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I have sounded the very base-string of humility.
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I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.
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But when the fox hath once got in his nose, He'll soon find means to make the body follow.
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So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.
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My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.
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Heaven is above all yet there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
William Shakespeare
Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affection, Figures pedantical--these summer flies Have blown me full of maggot ostentation.
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Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
William Shakespeare