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Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
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The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice.
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It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase, and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever lost. ’Tis too cold a companion: away with ’t!
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If all the year were playing holidays; To sport would be as tedious as to work.
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All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
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Truth needs no color; beauty, no pencil.
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The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
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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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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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The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.
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Grace and remembrance be to you both.
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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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For so work the honey bees, creatures that by a rule in nature teach the act of order to a peopled kingdom.
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Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty; Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows As false as dicers' oaths.
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Tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus.
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I have been long a sleeper; but I trust My absence doth neglect no great design Which by my presence might have been concluded.
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I profess not talking: only this, Let each man do his best.
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How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping?
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Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
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This is some fellow, Who having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness and constrains the garb Quite from his nature: he can't flatter, he! An honest mind and plain,--he must speak truth! And they will take it so; if not he's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness Harbor more craft, and far corrupter ends, Than twenty silly, ducking observants, That stretch their duty nicely.
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Keep time! How sour sweet music is when time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. I wasted time and now doth time waste me.
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Tis the mind that makes the body rich.
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Truth hath a quiet breast.
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it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance