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    But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  13  /  27  

O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple. -The Two read more

O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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Most forcible Feeble. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Most forcible Feeble. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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The early village cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

The early village cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

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Many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

Many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

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Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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Speak me fair in death. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Speak me fair in death. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

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By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the read more

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

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Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

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