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O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
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I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand As is a man were author of himself And knew no other kin.
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O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.
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My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
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All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may.
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When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy, over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.
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The weary sun hath made a golden set And by the bright tract of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
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O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven
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Heaven would that she these gifts should have, and I to live and die her slave.
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I do love nothing in the world so well as you – is not that strange?
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For to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
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Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares, And think perchance they'll sell; if not, The lustre of the better yet to show Shall show the better.
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Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
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The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.
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My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was.
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Give obedience where 'tis truly owed.
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For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
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The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law. - Romeo
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And be these juggling friends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.
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Fortune reigns in gifts of the world.
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Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man: today he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, tomorrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And - when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening - nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
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Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
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My pride fell with my fortunes.