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  4  /  14  

Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.

Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  22  /  19  

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

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  5  /  14  

And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. read more

And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.

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  20  /  16  

Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. read more

Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 4.

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These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing read more

These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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  8  /  22  

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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  5  /  7  

The why is plain as way to parish church. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

The why is plain as way to parish church. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can read more

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

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