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I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched in so many giddy offences as He hath generally taxed their whole their whole sex withal.
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
Thank
Generally
Offences
Sex
Withal
Woman
Taxed
Whole
Giddy
Many
Offence
Hath
Touched
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I have not slept one wink.
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Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the tailor make thy garments of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is opal.
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God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
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Literature is a comprehensive essence of the intellectual life of a nation.
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Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream
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Love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. *Love each other in moderation. That is the key to long-lasting love. Too fast is as bad as too slow.*
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The sweets we wish for, turn to loathed sours, Even in the moment that we call them ours.
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So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
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I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks.
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I can hardly forbear hurling things at him.
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Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.
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I will instruct my sorrows to be proud for grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.
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Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie. Romeo: In bed asleep while they do dream things true.
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Out of this nettle - danger - we pluck this flower - safety.
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Upon his royal face there is no note how dread an army hath enrounded him.
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Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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What is aught but as 'tis valued?
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Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!
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But as the unthought-on accident is guilty To what we wildly do, so we profess Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies Of every wind that blows.
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The eye sees all, but the mind shows us what we want to see.
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