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There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue in his outward parts. -The Merchant of Venice. read more

There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue in his outward parts. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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In the twinkling of an eye. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

In the twinkling of an eye. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

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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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I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there read more

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

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Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist. -The read more

Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

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The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. -King Richard III. Act i. read more

The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.

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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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A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act read more

A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

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Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand read more

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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