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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
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
Singing
Corn
Cuckoos
Grow
Idle
Docks
Grows
Weed
Aloud
Even
Mad
Weeds
Hemlock
Flowers
Sustaining
Furrow
Mets
Rank
Vex
Sea
Crown
Nettles
Flower
Crowns
Cuckoo
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
William Shakespeare
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, and till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, for then she never looks upon her lure.
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Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'd a blessed time for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys renown, and grace is dead The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
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Temptation: the fiend at my elbow.
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The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul producing holy witness Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
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There's an old saying that applies to me: you can't lose a game if you don't play the game. (Act 1, scene 4)
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It is war's prize to take all vantages And ten to one is no impeach of valor.
William Shakespeare
Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.
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To take arms against a sea of troubles.
William Shakespeare
Every cloud engenders not a storm.
William Shakespeare
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
William Shakespeare
Nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility.
William Shakespeare
Tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age, Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdened crawl toward death.
William Shakespeare
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which.
William Shakespeare
What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.
William Shakespeare
Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil. Are empty trunks o'erflourished by the devil.
William Shakespeare
And mind, with my heart in't and now farewell Till half an hour hence.
William Shakespeare
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
William Shakespeare
What freezings I have felt, what dark days seen, What old December's bareness everywhere!
William Shakespeare
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
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