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Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
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
Angels
Fairs
Masked
Clouds
Bud
Fair
Blown
Rose
Roses
Angel
Ladies
Sweet
Women
Shown
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I do desire we may be better strangers.
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Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
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Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.
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I always thought it was both impious and unnatural that such immanity and bloody strife should reign among professors of one faith.
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Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care.
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I have trod a measure, I have flattered a lady, I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy.
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The benediction of these covering heavens Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy To inlay heaven with stars.
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a wild dedication of yourselves To undiscovered waters, undreamed shores.
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Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.
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Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure.
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Short summers lightly have a forward spring.
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Conscience is a thousand swords.
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There is a world elsewhere.
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I cannot, nor I will not hold me still My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
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Lechery, lechery still, wars and lechery: nothing else holds fashion.
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By my soul I swear, there is no power in the tongue of man to alter me.
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This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.
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O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
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Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee? BEATRICE Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. BENEDICK O, stay but till then! BEATRICE 'Then' is spoken fare you well now... (Much Ado About Nothing)
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Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous.
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