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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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Off with his head! -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Off with his head! -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.

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By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the read more

By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

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A child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. -Love's Labour 's Lost. read more

A child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

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Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

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Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband. -The Taming of the read more

Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 2.

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How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. read more

How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

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