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Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
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
Thou
Manner
Anger
Wanting
Sorrow
Presses
Wise
Press
Disdain
Words
Pity
Lend
Pain
Patience
Lest
Art
Tongue
Cruel
Much
Express
Tied
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A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)
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When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
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Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.
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First Witch He knows thy thought: Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
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Modest doubt is called the beacon of the wise.
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Give sorrow words the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
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it is my lady! *sighs* o, it is my love! o, that she knew she were! she speaks, yet she sais nothing. what of that? her eye discourses i will answer it. i am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return.
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thus with a kiss I die
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In friendship, as in love, we are often happier through our ignorance than our knowledge.
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Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.
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We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
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O, this life Is nobler than attending for a check, Richer than doing nothing for a robe, Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk: Such pain the cap of him that makes him fine Yet keeps his book uncrossed.
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The king is but a man, as I am the violet smells to him as it doth to me the element shows to him as it doth to me all his senses have but human conditions his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.
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All of Creation’s a farce. Man was born as a joke. In his head his reason is buffeted Like wind-blown smoke. Life is a game. Everyone ridicules everyone else. But he who has the last laugh Laughs longest.
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One pain is lessened by another's anguish.
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This is the short and the long of it.
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For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground, and tell sad stories of the death of kings... All murdered for within the hollow crown that rounds the mortal temples of a king, keeps Death his court... and with a little pin bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
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I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm.
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What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
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