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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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
Black
Night
Mourning
Heavens
Hung
Yield
Theater
Heaven
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I do I know not what, and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe. What is decreed must be and be this so.
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Man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured.
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The people are the city.
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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 best is yet to come.
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On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily.
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Myself will straight aboard, and to the state This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
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Boldness be my friend.
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Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops. Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.
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In God's name cheerly on, courageous friends, To reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war.
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Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.
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Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
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First Witch He knows thy thought: Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
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I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, Too far in years to be a pupil now.
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