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Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor for 'tis the mind that makes the body rich
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
Shall
Rich
Poor
Makes
Body
Mind
Purses
Garments
Proud
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
William Shakespeare
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
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O that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused!
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To beguile the time, look like the time.
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When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
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There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.
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And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
William Shakespeare
What, gone without a word? Ay, so true love should do it cannot speak, For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
William Shakespeare
The soul of this man is his clothes.
William Shakespeare
But love that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offense, Crying, 'That's good that's gone.
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Lawn as white as driven snow Cyprus black as e'er was crow Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
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Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me. Now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, any by my friends I am abused so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.
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Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.
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Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England fairly met!
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Too much to know is to know nought but fame And every godfather can give a name.
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After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
William Shakespeare
Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
William Shakespeare
Simply the thing that I am shall make me live.
William Shakespeare
The love of wicked men converts to fear That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both To worthy danger and deserved death.
William Shakespeare
He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
William Shakespeare