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    When we mean to build, We first survey the plot, then draw the model; And when we see the figure of the house, Then must we rate the cost of the erection. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 3.

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  9  /  15  

Is she not passing fair? -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Is she not passing fair? -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 4.

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  2  /  8  

How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign read more

How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign of bliss and joy! -King Henry VI. Part III. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  7  /  11  

If they make you not then the better answer, you may say they are not the men you took them read more

If they make you not then the better answer, you may say they are not the men you took them for. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

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  7  /  8  

What! wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice? -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

What! wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice? -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

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  6  /  37  

I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so. -The Two Gentleman read more

I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  8  /  12  

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado read more

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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  6  /  10  

Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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  6  /  6  

I am never merry when I hear sweet music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

I am never merry when I hear sweet music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

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  2  /  2  

Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act read more

Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

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