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  9  /  8  

Every true man's apparel fits your thief. -Measure for Measure. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Every true man's apparel fits your thief. -Measure for Measure. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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  8  /  15  

'T is but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. -King Henry VIII. Act read more

'T is but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  12  /  12  

Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more

Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

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  6  /  8  

Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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  7  /  7  

The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act read more

The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 1.

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  25  /  23  

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  10  /  24  

Done to death by slanderous tongues. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 3.

Done to death by slanderous tongues. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 3.

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  5  /  13  

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An read more

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An hour by his dial. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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  8  /  8  

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint read more

And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.

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