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Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
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
Bachelor
Bachelors
Wisely
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woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see
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Heaven - the treasury of everlasting life.
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Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
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Truth will come to sight murder cannot be hid long.
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Why, universal plodding poisons up The nimble spirits in the arteries, As motion and long-during action tires The sinewy vigor of the traveller.
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Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
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I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
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A very scurvy fellow.
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Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm With favour never clasp'd but bred a dog.
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Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
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Friendship's full of dregs.
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My love's more richer than my tongue.
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I have heard of your paintings too, well enough God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't it hath made me mad.
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There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't
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To be in love- where scorn is bought with groans, Coy looks with heart-sore sighs, one fading moment's mirth With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain If lost, why then a grievous labour won However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished.
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Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
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Crowns have their compass-length of days their date- Triumphs their tomb-felicity, her fate- Of nought but earth can earth make us partaker, But knowledge makes a king most like his Maker.
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I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with die same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?
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In such business Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant More learned than the ears.
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