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I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; for grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.
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Those that do teach young babes Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
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Your cause of sorrow must not be measured by his worth, for then it hath no end.
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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
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I'll read enough When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
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Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy, To follow still the changes of the moon With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt Is once to be resolved.
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And Caesar shall go forth.
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Things are often spoke and seldom meant.
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Tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus.
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For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind.
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It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover.
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That which I would discover The law of friendship bids me to conceal.
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My wits begin to turn.
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Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.
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Pride went before, ambition follows him.
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Be collected. No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart There's no harm done.
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Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
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Charity itself fulfills the law. And who can sever love from charity?
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My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.
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If all the year were playing holidays; To sport would be as tedious as to work.
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Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.
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I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.
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I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born.