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Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands, But more when envy breeds unkind division: There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
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
Politics
Breeds
Comes
Ruin
Hands
Division
Children
Ruins
Much
Confusion
Envy
Begins
Childhood
Unkind
More quotes by William Shakespeare
How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.
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Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of Our human generation you shall find.
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Come, Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.
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Cease to lament for that thou canst not help and study help for that which thou lamentest.
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ROMEO to BALTHASAR But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry In what I further shall intend to do, By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
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My prophecy is but half his journey yet, For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.
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If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.
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Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.
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Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters.
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The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
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Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you
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Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me
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The rain, it raineth every day.
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The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burnt on the water.
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If ever thou shalt love, In the sweet pangs of it remember me For such as I am all true lovers are, Unstaid and skittish in all motions else Save in the constant image of the creature That is beloved.
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I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
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For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.
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Olivia: What's a drunken man like, fool? Feste: Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool the second mads him and a third drowns him.
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Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!
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All's well if all ends well.
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