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Miracles are ceased; and therefore we must needs admit the means, how things are perfected.
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For he was likely, had he been put on, to have proved most royally.
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I was born free as Caesar; so were you
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For my own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
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Even through the hollow eyes of death I spy life peering.
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O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else? And shall I couple Hell?
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I scorn you, scurvy companion.
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For she had eyes and chose me.
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You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser.
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In thy foul throat thou liest.
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Such antics do not amount to a man.
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Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast...
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I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!
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There's a time for all things.
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One pain is lessened by another's anguish.
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Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.
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Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
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There is nothing serious in Mortality
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Here's flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
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He receives comfort like cold porridge.
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Faith, stay here this night; they will surely do us no harm; you saw they speak us fair, give us gold; methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, could find in my heart to stay here still and turn witch.
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Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor But was a race of heaven.
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Give me a staff of honor for mine age, But not a sceptre to control the world.
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Ay, is it not a language I speak?