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For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.
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This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
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The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure; but modest doubt is called The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To th' bottom of the worst.
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O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!
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Make use of time, let not advantage slip; Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.
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It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.
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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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In friendship, as in love, we are often happier through our ignorance than our knowledge.
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Who is it can read a woman?
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Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
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Base men being in love have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them.
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This act is an ancient tale new told; And, in the last repeating, troublesome, Being urged at a time unseasonable.
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You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.
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I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear.
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Are there no stones in heaven But what serves for thunder?
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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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Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
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At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies.
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Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by.
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Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return to plague the inventor.