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Cease thy counsel, for thy words fall into my ears as priceless as water into a seive.
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She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.
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I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
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Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones.
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My father names me Autolycus, who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.
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Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
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He that keeps not crust nor crum Weary of all, shall want some.
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Comets importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky And with them scourge the bad revolting stars.
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Under the colour of commending him I have access my own love to prefer; But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
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Every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.
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There's such divinity doth hedge a king That treason can but peep to what it would.
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Our holy lives must win a new world's crown.
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O, the blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
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I was too young that time to value her, But now I know her. If she be a traitor, Why, so am I. We still have slept together, Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together, And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, Still we went coupled and inseparable.
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What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours.
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My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
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Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
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And why not death rather than living torment? To die is to be banish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her Is self from self: a deadly banishment!
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They may seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand And steal immortal blessing from her lips, Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.