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We were not born to sue, but to command.
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Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.
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I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood".
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That but this blow Might be the be-all and the end – all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come.
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He must needs go that the devil drives.
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While thou livest keep a good tongue in thy head.
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O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer!
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That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.
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The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
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More of your conversation would infect my brain.
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It is a basilisk unto mine eye, Kills me to look on't.
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Time does not have the same appeal for every one
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I do desire we may be better strangers.
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Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
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I will be free, even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
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We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail.
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Of all the fair resort of gentlemen That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest love?
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All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
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Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
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Dreams are the children of idled minds.
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Take all the swift advantage of the hours.
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Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
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Tis not a year or two shows us a man: They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; They eat us hungerly, and when they are full They belch us.