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I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
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But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
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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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Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.
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I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true.
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In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.
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Let never day nor night unhallowed pass, but still remember what the Lord hath done.
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I am a feather for each wind that blows
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Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
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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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A Loud Laugh Bespeaks a Vacant Mind!
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.
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Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.
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Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
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Some men there are love not a gaping pig, some that are mad if they behold a cat, and others when the bagpipe sings I the nose cannot contain their urine.
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She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed.
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Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.
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There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.
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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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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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Slander, whose whisper over the world's diameter, as level as the cannon to its blank, transports its poisoned shot.
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Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence, But never tax'd for speech.