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Where the greater malady is fixed, The lesser is scarce felt.
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
Felt
Malady
Lesser
Scarce
Fixed
Greater
Suffering
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Ambition's debt is paid.
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Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie.
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Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck.
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Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly at your service
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When a gentlemen is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths.
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Set your heart at rest. The fairyland buys not the child of me.
William Shakespeare
To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
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They do not love that do not show their love.
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Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful Mine ears, that heard her flattery nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.
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If it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul.
William Shakespeare
My desolation does begin to make A better life.
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I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.
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But like of each thing that in season grows.
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I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
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What e'er you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time.
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Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
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Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to th' rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their prey do rouse.
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To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.
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Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.
William Shakespeare
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
William Shakespeare