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What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
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
Undone
Bed
Cannot
Done
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O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel (Who had no doubt some noble creature in her) Dashed all to pieces! O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished!
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It is the mind that makes the body rich and as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, so honor peereth in the meanest habit.
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A very honest woman but something given to lie
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Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil. Are empty trunks o'erflourished by the devil.
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...lest too light winning make the prize light.
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Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mouth.
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Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
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Two lovely berries moulded on one stem So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
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O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.
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All difficulties are easy when they are known.
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I'll teach you differences.
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He is the most wretched of men who has never felt adversity.
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But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
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Shine out fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.
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How strange or odd some'er I bear myself, As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on.
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Happy thou art not for what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get and what thou hast, forgettest.
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A kind Of excellent dumb discourse.
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I thank you all and here dismiss you all, and to the love and favor of my country commit myself, my person, and the cause.
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But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose but Fortune, O!
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Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
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