1963 ordspråk av William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
A woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not
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A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.
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A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
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A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.
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A wretched soul bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.
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Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
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Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
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Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.
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Abstinence engenders maladies.
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Action is eloquence.
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Adieu! I have too grieved a heart to take a tedious leave
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
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Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, and thou art wedded to calamity.
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Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow!
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