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    All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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  2  /  9  

I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than read more

I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

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  3  /  5  

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse read more

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

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  6  /  7  

My friends were poor but honest. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.

My friends were poor but honest. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.

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  6  /  10  

O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow read more

O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phœbus in his strength,—a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

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  5  /  4  

I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

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  5  /  16  

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. read more

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

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  6  /  13  

The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now 't is not read more

The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now 't is not to be found. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.

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  5  /  6  

In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight The selfsame way, read more

In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight The selfsame way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by adventuring both, I oft found both. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

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  8  /  10  

Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. read more

Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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