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I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.
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
Rather
Live
Windmill
Windmills
Garlic
Cheese
More quotes by William Shakespeare
One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
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Be collected. No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart There's no harm done.
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Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.
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Put on The dauntless spirit of resolution.
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Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good a shining gloss that fadeth suddenly a flower that dies when it begins to bud a doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
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So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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She speaks poniards, and every word stabs.
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When I got enough confidence, the stage was gone. When I was sure of losing, I won. When I needed people the most, they left me. When I learnt to dry my tears, I found a shoulder to cry on. And when I mastered the art of hating, somebody started loving me.
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Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, have yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltiness of time.
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This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,Was once thought honest.
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The play's the thing.
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I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love.
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Love denied blights the soul we owe to God.
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Be just, and fear not.
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O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip Hath virgined it e'er since.
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Many strokes, though with a little axe, hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
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O Lord that lends me life, Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!
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I must be cruel only to be kind Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
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Time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will.
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Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs.
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