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It is the cowish terror of his spirit that dares not undertake he'll not feel wrongs which tie him to an answer.
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
Answers
Spirit
Dares
Feel
Undertake
Feels
Wrongs
Ties
Terror
Dare
Answer
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Watch tonight, pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you!
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A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind.
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Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
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The force of his own merit makes his way-a gift that heaven gives for him.
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For many men that stumble at the threshold are well foretold that danger lurks within.
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I will be free, even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
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No .... holy father, throw away that thought. Believe not that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a complete bosom.
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All's well that ends well still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
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Now is the winter of our discontent.
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'Tis thought the king is dead we will not stay. The bay trees in our country are all wither'd.
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Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
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The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
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Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means!
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The best is yet to come.
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Welcome ever smiles, and farewell goes out sighing.
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What light through yonder window breaks?
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I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.
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Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast...
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An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye Give him a little earth for charity!
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Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well
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