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There 's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good read more

There 's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with 't. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

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Men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky read more

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

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Truth will come to sight; murder cannot be hid long. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Truth will come to sight; murder cannot be hid long. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

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They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. read more

They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.

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Benedick the married man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

Benedick the married man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

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I cannot tell what the dickens his name is. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I cannot tell what the dickens his name is. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.

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An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.

An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 4.

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'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful read more

'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

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