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You shall more command with years than with your weapons.
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
Weapons
Shall
Years
Command
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.
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To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans coy looks, with heart-sore sighs one fading moment's mirth
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The object of Art is to give life a shape.
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And do so, love, yet when they have devised What strainèd touches rhetoric can lend, Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathized In true plain words by thy true-telling friend And their gross painting might be better used Where cheeks need blood in thee it is abused.
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Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more a man who hath any honesty in him.
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When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
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To be once in doubt Is once to be resolved.
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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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Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.
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The worm is not to be trusted.
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All of Creation’s a farce. Man was born as a joke. In his head his reason is buffeted Like wind-blown smoke. Life is a game. Everyone ridicules everyone else. But he who has the last laugh Laughs longest.
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As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
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Hate pollutes the mind.
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Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear and from the tents The armorers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation.
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Now no way can I stray Save back to England, all the world's my way.
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Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
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Great griefs medicine the less.
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What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.
William Shakespeare
Murder most foul, as in the best it it But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
William Shakespeare
Heaven give you many, many merry days.
William Shakespeare