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Lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the read more

Lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. -The Comedy of Errors. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. -The Comedy of Errors. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To read more

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

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Neither rhyme nor reason. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Neither rhyme nor reason. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! -King Henry VI. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! -King Henry VI. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

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