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Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
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
Eye
Sometimes
Shuts
Sorrow
Sleep
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The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
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Cheerily to sea the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France
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I do not hate a proud man, as I do hate the engendering of toads.
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Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
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I cannot, nor I will not hold me still My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
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Never he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies.
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Full many a glorious morn I have seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.
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Virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
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Light and lust are deadly enemies.
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Of all base passions, fear is the most accursed.
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Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own
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I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
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What is more miserable than discontent?
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Let's take the instant by the forward top For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time Steals ere we can effect them.
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Let me not live, after my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff of younger spirits.
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The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.
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There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
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I love him for his sake And yet I know him a notorious liar, Think him a great way fool, solely a coward Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him That they take place when virtue's steely bones Looks bleak i' th' cold wind withal, full oft we see Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.
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There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.
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The past is prologue.
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