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Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
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
Patched
Amends
Sin
Virtue
More quotes by William Shakespeare
For though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.
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Time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop.
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Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words
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His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.
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Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.
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... by indirections find directions out.
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How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!
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Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.
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At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies.
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If your mind dislike anything obey it
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Well, honor is the subject of my story.
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I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
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After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
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The language I have learnt these forty years, My native English, now I must forgo And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol or a harp, Or like a cunning instrument cased up Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
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Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules, but beware instinct. The lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter. I was a coward on instinct.
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To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy.
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O God of battles! steel my soldiers’ hearts. Possess them not with fear.
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Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on instinct.
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Sweetest nut hath sourest rind.
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O, full of scorpions is my mind!
William Shakespeare