William Shakespeare Quotes - Page 34 | Just Great DataBase

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.

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They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.

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We that are true lovers run into strange capers.

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It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion and all made of wishes, All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience and impatience, All purity, all trial, all observance

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What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyesWould, with themselves, shut up my thoughts...

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Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;But do not dull thy palm with entertainmentOf each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.

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When Rosencrantz asks Hamlet, "Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your grief to your friends"(III, ii, 844-846), Hamlet responds, "Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me." (III,ii, 371-380)

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Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery That aptly is put on. Refrain tonight, And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence; the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature.

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Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

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If it be now, ’tis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come—the readiness is all.

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If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening ...

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The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,Burnt on the water.

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The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!O, wither'd is the garland of the war,The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girlsAre level now with men; the odds is gone,And there is nothing left remarkableBeneath the visiting moon.

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If she and I be pleased, what's that to you?

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My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale,And every tale condemns me for a villain.Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree;Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree,Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty!, guilty!

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We two alone will sing like birds i' th' cage.When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel downAnd ask of thee forgiveness. So we’ll live,And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laughAt gilded butterflies, and hear poor roguesTalk of court news, and we’ll talk with them too—Who loses and who wins, who’s in, who’s out—And take upon ’s the mystery of thingsAs if we were God’s spies.

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This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so, it is a chance which does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt.

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But, for my own part, it was Greek to me.

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For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,To stir men’s blood: I only speak right on;I tell you that which you yourselves do know;

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ساءت أفعالهم فقبحت بالناس ظنونهم.

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