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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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
Show
Fond
Shows
Doth
Multitudes
Fool
Choose
Learning
Teach
Eye
Multitude
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Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.
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Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
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Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
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You have but mistook me all the while... I live by bread like you, taste grief, feel want, need friends. Conditioned thus how can you call me king?
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April ... hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
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The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous main, Seems to cast water on the burning Bear, And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole.
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...lest too light winning make the prize light.
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Our wills and fates do so contrary run, That our devices still are overthrown Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
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This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf...Cupid.
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Having nothing, nothing can he lose.
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Misery makes sport to mock itself.
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Take physic, pomp Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them And show the heavens more just.
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Yet, do thy worst, old Time despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.
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Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel then what should war be?
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Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid Fly away, fly away, breath I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
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GLOUCESTER: Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty and so many my defects, As I had rather hide me from my greatness, Being a bark to brook no mighty sea, Than in my greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my glory smother'd. But God be thanked. . . .
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Fall Greeks fail fame honour or go or stay My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
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O powerful love, that in some respects makes a beast a man, in some other, a man a beast.
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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
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Time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.
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