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What I have done is yours what I have to do is yours being part in all I have, devoted yours.
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
Done
Heart
Love
Devoted
Part
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
William Shakespeare
Make not your thoughts your prisons.
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At once, good night- Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
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Determine on some course more than a wild exposure to each chance.
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Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning One pain is less'ned by another's anguish Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
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Life is as tedious as twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
William Shakespeare
In such business Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant More learned than the ears.
William Shakespeare
To die: - to sleep: No more and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.
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Thus conscience does make cowards of us all And thus the native hue of resolution Is slicked o'er with the pale cast of thought
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Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more.
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Things may serve long, but not serve ever.
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The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush.
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O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
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The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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Glory is like a circle in the water
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Why, who cries out on pride that can therein tax any private party? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea till the weary very means do ebb?
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My crown is called content, a crown that seldom kings enjoy.
William Shakespeare
There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
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Pardon, gentles all, the flat unraised spirits that have dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring forth so great an object.
William Shakespeare