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Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
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I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
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When I waked, I cried to dream again
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Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?
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I am a feather for each wind that blows
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For this, be sure, tonight thou shalt have cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up. Urchins Shall forth at vast of night that they may work All exercise on thee. Thou shalt be pinched As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em.
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You had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground.
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Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
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Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.
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Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies!
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Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drenched our teeples, drowned the cocks! You sulphurour and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's molds, all germens spill at once That make ingrateful man!
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When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
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I rather would entreat thy company; To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
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I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people.
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See the minutes, how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.
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There's not a shirt and a half in all my company, and the half shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves.
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.
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When devils will the blackest sins put on They do suggest at first with heavenly shows
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I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
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I am as true as truth's simplicity, And simpler than the infancy of truth.
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You must not think That we are made of stuff so fat and dull That we can let our beard be shook with danger And think it pastime.
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Let never day nor night unhallowed pass, but still remember what the Lord hath done.
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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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Do not banish reason for inequality; but let your reason serve to make the truth appear where it seems hid, and hide the false seems true.