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Be merry you have cause, so have we all, of joy for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
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
Sorrow
Comfort
Loss
Beyond
Cause
Weigh
Joy
Wisely
Causes
Merry
Much
Escape
More quotes by William Shakespeare
For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
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If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, and hug it in mine arms.
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We will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
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Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind.
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This rough magic I here abjure and when I have required some heavenly music, which even now I do, to work mine end upon their senses that this airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
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Make use of time, let not advantage slip Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.
William Shakespeare
For so work the honey bees, creatures that by a rule in nature teach the act of order to a peopled kingdom.
William Shakespeare
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?
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Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible.
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Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks
William Shakespeare
Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
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She told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love, but if she lost it Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After new fancies.
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So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
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To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe, And so your follies fight against yourself. Fear, and be slain--so worse can come to fight And fight and die is death destroying death, Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
William Shakespeare
Adieu! I have too grieved a heart to take a tedious leave.
William Shakespeare
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.
William Shakespeare
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
William Shakespeare
To die: - to sleep: No more and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.
William Shakespeare