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I hope to see London once ere I die.
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
Travel
Dies
Hope
London
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I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.
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What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?
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Most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath.
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The trust I have is in mine innocence, and therefore am I bold and resolute.
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But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.
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Patch grief with proverbs.
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So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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Adversity makes strange bedfellows.
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You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air, I banish you And here remain with your uncertainty!
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Light seeking light doth light of light beguile: So, ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
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Small things make base men proud.
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Press not a falling man too far 'tis virtue: His faults lie open to the laws let them, Not you, correct him.
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You cannot make gross sins look clear: To revenge is no valour, but to bear.
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Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
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Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.
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Give them great meals of beef and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves and fight like devils.
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Take but degree away, untune that string, and hark, what discord follows!
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Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
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I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm.
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