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Give me a bowl of wine, In this I bury all unkindness.
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
Give
Giving
Bacchus
Unkindness
Bury
Bowl
Bowls
Wine
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With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage.
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Condemn the fault and not the actor of it?
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Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him.
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As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
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Live loath'd and long, Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time flies Cap and knee slaves, vapors, and minute jacks.
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O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.
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Appetite, a universal wolf.
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Coward dogs most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten runs far before them.
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Thanks to men Of noble minds, is honorable meed.
William Shakespeare
I am a foe to tyrants, and my country's friend.
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The gloomy shade of death.
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It is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change.
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There is a river in Macedon, and there is moreover a river in Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both.
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Hardness ever of hardness is mother.
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That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
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I would with such perfection govern, sir, T'excel the golden age.
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The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand.
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If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
William Shakespeare
Past all shame, so past all truth.
William Shakespeare
That in the captains but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
William Shakespeare