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O, how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors.
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
Men
Lucifer
Princes
Hangs
Wretched
Favors
Poor
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To whom God will, there be the victory.
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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry
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I bear a charmed life.
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Fie, fie, how frantically I square my talk!
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When Caesar says, 'Do this', it is performed.
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At Christmas, I no more desire a rose.
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There is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman than report of valor.
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Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.
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Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
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Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan For that deep wound it gives my friend and me Is't not enough to torture me alone, But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
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As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
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It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
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Gold--what can it not do, and undo?
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It is not night when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you in my respect are all the world: Then how can it be said I am alone, When all the world is here to look on me?
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Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight which therein works a miracle in Nature, making them lightest that wear most of it: so are those crisped snaky golden locks which make such wanton gambols with the wind upon supposed fairness, often known to be the dowry of a second head, the skull that bred them in the sepulchre.
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Bassanio: Do all men kill all the things they do not love? Shylock: Hates any man the thing he would not kill? Bassanio: Every offence is not a hate at first.
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