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I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
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
Intelligence
Fool
Leave
Politics
Faction
Keep
Factions
Stirring
Fools
Wit
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for thunder?
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I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself.
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The most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him show himself what he is and steal out of your company.
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Silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
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So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown When judges have been babes great floods have flown From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
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Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
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If people knew how much I hated them, they'd love me for holding it in.
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Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
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Though I am not naturally honest, I am sometimes so by chance.
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Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun it shines everywhere.
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I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true.
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Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to th' rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
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Greatness, once fallen out with fortune, must fall out with men too.
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Enough no more Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
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O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
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He wears the rose Of youth upon him.
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Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
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The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.
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Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
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All's well that ends well still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
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