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For 'tis the sport to have the engineer Hoist with his own petar and't shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines And blow them at the moon.
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
Hard
Yards
Engineers
Sport
Blow
Mines
Hoist
Moon
Delve
Shall
Engineer
Sports
Yard
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The poorest service is repaid with thanks.
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Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
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O momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
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Bid the dishonest man mend himself if he mend, he is no longer dishonest.
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Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.
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O, full of scorpions is my mind!
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I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
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When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.
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O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others!
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Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
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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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Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own read.
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She is your treasure, she must have a husband I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day, And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell.
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Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
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Upon his royal face there is no note how dread an army hath enrounded him.
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Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
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This is the third time I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.
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God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.
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O, this life Is nobler than attending for a check, Richer than doing nothing for a robe, Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk: Such pain the cap of him that makes him fine Yet keeps his book uncrossed.
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What is past is prologue.
William Shakespeare