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Ambition, the soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, than gain which darkens him.
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
Loss
Virtue
Choices
Darkens
Rather
Gain
Makes
Soldier
Gains
Ambition
Choice
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Good morrow, fair ones pray you, if you know, Where in the purlieus of this forest stands A sheep-cote fenc'd about with olive trees?
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I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I.
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That is the way to lay the city flat, To bring the roof to the foundation, And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, In heaps and piles of ruin.
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See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek!
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It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.
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When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover.
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By-and-by is easily said.
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He's of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger.... he is pure air and fire and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts.
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Time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arm outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer.
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Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
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He doth nothing but talk of his horses.
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I can no longer live by thinking.
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Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
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The why is plain as way to parish church: He that a fool doth very wisely hit Doth very foolishly, although he smart, Not to seem senseless of the bob if not, The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool.
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There is nothing so confining as the prisons of our own perceptions.
William Shakespeare
I would fain die a dry death.
William Shakespeare
A very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience.
William Shakespeare
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven and as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name such tricks hath strong imagination.
William Shakespeare
The will of man is by his reason sway'd.
William Shakespeare