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  •   7  /  9  

    This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers…. There is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act v. Sc. 1.

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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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  21  /  24  

I would fain die a dry death. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

I would fain die a dry death. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  4  /  10  

The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.

The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.

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  16  /  15  

He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; Lofty and sour to them read more

He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; Lofty and sour to them that loved him not, But to those men that sought him sweet as summer. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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  13  /  6  

O, call back yesterday, bid time return! -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

O, call back yesterday, bid time return! -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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  4  /  11  

A foutre for the world and worldlings base! I speak of Africa and golden joys. -King Henry IV. Part II. read more

A foutre for the world and worldlings base! I speak of Africa and golden joys. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act v. Sc. 3.

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  10  /  9  

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

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  5  /  14  

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. read more

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.

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  11  /  15  

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls read more

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls the craft
Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed
The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled
Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled
With melody divine.

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