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    It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

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  2  /  3  

It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. -King Henry IV. read more

It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 2.

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Anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. read more

Anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  6  /  8  

O, good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for read more

O, good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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  4  /  4  

If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  12  /  13  

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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With all appliances and means to boot. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

With all appliances and means to boot. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had read more

This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had a strife
With Nature, to outdo the life:
Oh, could he but have drawn his wit
As well in brass, as he has hit
His face, the print would then surpass
All that was ever writ in brass;
But since he cannot, reader, look
Not on his picture, but his book.

by Ben Jonson Found in: Shakespeare Quotes,
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Men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. read more

Men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

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The boy hath sold him a bargain,—a goose. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The boy hath sold him a bargain,—a goose. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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