William Shakespeare Quotes About War
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We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
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Cry "havoc!" and let loose the dogs of war, That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
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The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.
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Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men.
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Come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them.
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For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas
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I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
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Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; then what should war be?
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All pity choked with custom of fell deeds.
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Shall we upon the footing of our land Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce, To arms invasive?
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Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
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Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
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A man can die but once.
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In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; . . . . Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
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Fight to the last gasp.
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Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
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Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.
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A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers.
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I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways.
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The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down.
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Were it good To set the exact wealth of all our states All at one cast? to set so rich a main On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour? It were not good.
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Cheerily to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France
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It is war's prize to take all vantages; And ten to one is no impeach of valor.
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One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
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Set we forward; let A Roman and a British ensign wave Friendly together. So through Lud's town march, And in the temple of the great Jupiter Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts. Set on there! Never was a war did cease, Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace.
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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 At war 'twixt will and will not.
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To whom God will, there be the victory.
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War is no strife To the dark house and the detested wife.
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Then imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
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