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Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
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
Head
Draw
Spur
Fighting
Draws
Spurs
War
Horse
Gentlemen
Welkin
Hard
England
Arrows
Staves
Broken
Bold
Yeoman
Proud
Horses
Archers
Fight
Ride
Amaze
Blood
Gentleman
Archer
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When remedies are past, the griefs are ended By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
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For you and I are past our dancing days.
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Assume a virtue if you have it not.
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No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape back- wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
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But indeed an old religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth an inland man one that knew courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against it and I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched with so many giddy offenses as he hath generally taxed their whole sex withal.
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These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights, that give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit of their shining nights than those that walk and know not what they are.
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The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
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Here comes Monseiur Le Beau. Rosalind: With his mouth full of news. Celia: Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rosalind: Then shall we be news-crammed. Celia: All the better we shall be the more marketable.
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Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.
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And she's fair I love.
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O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven
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I am as true as truth's simplicity, And simpler than the infancy of truth.
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You may my Glories and my State depose, But not my Griefes still am I King of those.
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For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
William Shakespeare
And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
William Shakespeare
It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.
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How slow This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires, Like to a stepdame, or a dowager, Long withering out a young man's revenue.
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Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long / To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
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O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our times to come.
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I see a man's life is a tedious one.
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