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Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?
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
Woods
Custom
Court
Exile
Sweet
Peril
Brother
Painted
Free
Mates
Made
Customs
Life
Hath
Pomp
Brothers
Envious
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
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And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
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It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
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Take physic, pomp Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them And show the heavens more just.
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After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
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Those that much covet are with gain so fond, For what they have not, that which they possess They scatter and unloose it from their bond, And so, by hoping more, they have but less Or, gaining more, the profit of excess Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.
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Men that make Envy and crooked malice nourishment, Dare bite the best.
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The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
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See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek!
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail.
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Oppose not rage while rage is in its force, but give it way a while and let it waste.
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The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.
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A Loud Laugh Bespeaks a Vacant Mind!
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I do profess to be no less than I seem to serve him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is honest to converse with him that is wise, and says little to fear judgment to fight when I cannot choose and to eat no fish.
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O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.
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Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
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The thing of courage As rous'd with rage doth sympathise, And, with an accent tun'd in self-same key, Retorts to chiding fortune.
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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Tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age, Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdened crawl toward death.
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