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Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there.
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
Thoughts
Chiefest
Shall
Conveniently
Become
Wooing
Love
Courtship
Employ
Merry
Fairs
Fair
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I am misanthropos, and hate mankind, For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.
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To go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes
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The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.
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Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph.
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Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight
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A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously the very ice of chastity is in them.
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Thyself shall see the act For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.
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In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond.
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Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
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a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief
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I doubt not then but innocence shall makeFalse accusation blush, and tyrannyTremble at patience.
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.
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If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage.
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We must be gentle now we are gentlemen.
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What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye
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Reputation is an idle and most false imposition oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
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What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood Is there not rain enough in the sweet heaves To wash it white as snow?
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Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward To what they were before.
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Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace. Leave gormandizing.
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Give me mine angle, we'll to th' river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finned fishes. My bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws and as I draw them up, I'll think them every one an Antony, And say, 'Ah, ha! are caught!'
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