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I am that merry wanderer of the night.
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I see a man's life is a tedious one.
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Words to deeds cold breath gives.
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But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
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How strange or odd some'er I bear myself, As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on.
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Remuneration! O! That's the Latin word for three farthings
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Ten masts make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. Thy life's a miracle.
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The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape, In forms imaginary, th' unguided days And rotten times that you shall look upon When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
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Hate pollutes the mind.
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Were kisses all the joys in bed, One woman would another wed.
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All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy.
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All thy vexations Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test; here, afore heaven, I ratify this my rich gift.
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Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow.
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The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.
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Contention, like a horse, Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, And bears down all before him.
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I think thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a prayer without book.
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The king is but a man, as I am; the violet smells to him as it doth to me; the element shows to him as it doth to me; all his senses have but human conditions; his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.
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Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.
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Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have.
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No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things.