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Perseverance, my dear Lord. Keeps honour bright.
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
Perseverance
Bright
Keeps
Dear
Lord
Honour
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
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The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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We were not born to sue, but to command.
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The curse of marriage That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites!
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What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?
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'Tis brief, my lord...as woman's love.
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Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.
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Tush! Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate Talkers are no good doers: be assured We come to use our hands and not our tongues.
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I was born free as Caesar so were you
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The error of our eye directs our mind. What error leads must err.
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When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward child understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical.
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As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
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We wound our modesty and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.
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He does me double wrong That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
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My cousin's a fool, and thou art another.
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Thou speak'st like him's untutored to repeat: Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.
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From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
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Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
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The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.
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They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.
William Shakespeare