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A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish.
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
Table
Tables
Welcome
Full
Makes
Dainty
Dish
Scarce
Dishes
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Love goes toward love.
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I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways.
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Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately— long love doth so.
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Let none presume To wear an undeserved dignity. O that estates, degrees, and offices Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!
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It is a wise father that knows his own child.
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The devil knew what he did when he made men politic he crossed himself by it.
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Thou art sad get thee a wife, get thee a wife!
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And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.
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O how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have, and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again.
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For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
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Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger
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The instances that second marriage move Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.
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Heaven give you many, many merry days.
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He that keeps not crust nor crum Weary of all, shall want some.
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O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.
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She speaks poniards, and every word stabs.
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So quick bright things come to confusion.
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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears soft stillness, and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony
William Shakespeare
Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare, To digg the dust encloased heare! Blest be the man that spares thes stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.
William Shakespeare