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    O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phœbus in his strength,—a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

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For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Learning is but an adjunct read more

For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.

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  7  /  18  

-Fer.

-Fer.

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I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. read more

I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

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  0  /  8  

Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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  9  /  10  

I have mark'd A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames In angel whiteness beat read more

I have mark'd A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames In angel whiteness beat away those blushes. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.

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Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more

I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

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If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, read more

If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 1.

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