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  6  /  6  

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,— A stage, where every man must play a part; And mine read more

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,— A stage, where every man must play a part; And mine a sad one. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

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I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

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  9  /  3  

Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time in you? -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time in you? -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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  2  /  11  

-Falstaff.

-Falstaff.

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  12  /  9  

All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their read more

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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He doth nothing but talk of his horse. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

He doth nothing but talk of his horse. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

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Charm ache with air, and agony with words. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

Charm ache with air, and agony with words. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

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The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can read more

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

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A good old man, sir; he will be talking: as they say, When the age is in the wit is read more

A good old man, sir; he will be talking: as they say, When the age is in the wit is out. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 5.

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