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  17  /  21  

Thou art the Mars of malcontents. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Thou art the Mars of malcontents. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

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In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our read more

In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  12  /  11  

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with read more

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

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A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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All that glisters is not gold. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

All that glisters is not gold. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.

Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.

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As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all read more

As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.

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So wise so young, they say, do never live long. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 1.

So wise so young, they say, do never live long. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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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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