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From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, read more

From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.

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Makes a swan-like end, Fading in music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Makes a swan-like end, Fading in music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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What 's gone and what 's past help Should be past grief. -The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc. 2.

What 's gone and what 's past help Should be past grief. -The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.

Nor sequent centuries could hit
Orbit and sum of Shakespeare's wit.

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A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the read more

A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I 'll not march through Coventry with them, that 's flat: nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There 's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like an herald's coat without sleeves. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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I was now a coward on instinct. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

I was now a coward on instinct. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

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The selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

The selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

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Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

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