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Why, courage then! what cannot be avoided 'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.
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Dream in light years, challenge miles, walk step by step
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You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live
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Having nothing, nothing can he lose.
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I am wrapped in dismal thinking.
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Dirty days hath September April June and November From January up to May The rain it raineth every day All the rest have thirty-one Without a blessed gleam of sun And if any of them had two-and-thirty They'd be just as wet and twice as dirty." "April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
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There is a time in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
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Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up in a glistering grief, and wear a golden sorrow.
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Opinion crowns with an imperial voice.
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I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; And if I die no soul will pity me: And wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself?
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O that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused!
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Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?
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Lawless are they that make their wills their law.
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The last taste of sweets is sweetest last.
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Haply for I am black, And have not those soft parts of conversation That chamberers have; or for I am declined Into the vale of years—yet that’s not much— She’s gone. I am abused, and my relief Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad And live upon the vapor of a dungeon Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others’ uses. Yet ’tis the plague of great ones; Prerogatived are they less than the base. ’Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
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I understand a fury in your words But not your words.
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Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.
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Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
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Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and fun of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy shee.
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But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.
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This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property ordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings.
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What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.
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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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Boldness be my friend.