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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn.
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If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.
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O, what damned minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet fondly loves!
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But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph.
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Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?
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God mark thee to His grace! Thou was the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. And might I live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
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I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
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Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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Thus weary of the world, away she hies, And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid Their mistress mounted through the empty skies In her light chariot quickly is convey'd; Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen Means to immure herself and not be seen.
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The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.
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I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die.
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O, full of scorpions is my mind!
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He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
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This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
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O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.
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To whom God will, there be the victory.
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Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache; but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.
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A fool's bolt is soon shot.
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Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
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The means that heaven yields must be embraced, and not neglected; else, if heaven would, and we will not heaven's offer, we refuse the proffered means of succor and redress.
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Where the greater malady is fixed, The lesser is scarce felt.
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Honesty is not the best policy - merely the safest
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Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please me.
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But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?