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Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
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I am your wife if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I'll be your servant Whether you will or no.
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He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
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The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
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To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.
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Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles.
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There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable.
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Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
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The devil knew what he did when he made men politic; he crossed himself by it.
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I that please some, try all, both joy and terror Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error.
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I’ll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
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Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
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Blessings of your heart, you brew good ale.
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The leopard does not change his spots.
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I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.(IAGO,ActI,SceneI)
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Conscience is a blushing, shamefaced spirit than mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles.
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Thou art the Mars of malcontents.
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Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.
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I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
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Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lender's books, and defy the foul fiend.
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Be as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee.
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The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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Good with out evil is like light with out darkness which in turn is like righteousness whith out hope.
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To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars.