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Vice repeated is like the wandering wind, blows dust in others' eyes to spread itself.
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
Blow
Spread
Wandering
Wind
Blows
Eyes
Repeated
Eye
Vice
Others
Wander
Like
Vices
Dust
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues.
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When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
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Give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of spirit Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have.
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Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.
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For I am nothing if not critical.
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God defend me from that Welsh fairy, Lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!
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I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so.
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Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion
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I see a woman may be made a fool, If she had not a spirit to resist.
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Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend.
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Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
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To fear the worst oft cures the worst.
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Past all shame, so past all truth.
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You are thought here to the most senseless and fit man for the job.
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You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.
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Nay, do not think I flatter. For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?
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So quick bright things come to confusion.
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Besides, they are our outward consciences, And preachers to us all, admonishing That we should drew us fairly for our end.
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Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
William Shakespeare
I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.
William Shakespeare