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For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas
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A plague on both your houses.
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Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
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The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.
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Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I ha' lost my reputation, I ha' lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial!
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Truth needs no color; beauty, no pencil.
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Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.
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Say as you think and speak it from your souls.
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I'll teach you differences.
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We are ready to try our fortunes to the last man.
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Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck, And yet methinks I have astronomy. But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of plagues, of dearths, or season's quality; Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell ... Or say with princes if it shall go well.
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He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: And you all know, security Is mortals' chiefest enemy.
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This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?
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You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!
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We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail.
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I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; not the soldier's which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, which, by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
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Like the lily That once was mistress of the field and flourished, I'll hang my head and perish.
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When law can do no right, Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong.
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You must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.
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My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
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Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.
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The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good. Pity is the virtue of the law, and none but tyrants use it cruelly.
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Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
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I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.