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Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Here's three on's are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more than such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
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Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.
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Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Where death's approach is seen so terrible!
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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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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .
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Never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.
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Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.
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Things are often spoke and seldom meant.
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Assume a virtue if you have it not.
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When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.
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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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Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.
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O, how full of briers is this working-day world!
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...Vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
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But whate'er you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If you have ever looked on better days, If ever been where bells knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast, If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be. . . .
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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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We are ready to try our fortunes to the last man.
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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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Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, And so doth yours: your fault was not your folly; Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, Subjected tribute to commanding love, Against whose fury and unmatched force The aweless lion could not wage the fight Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
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I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me.
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Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly at your service
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Men of few words are the best men." (3.2.41)
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Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.
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All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus; There is no virtue like necessity.