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| William Shakespeare. (15641616) (continued) |
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| 810 |
| The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. |
| All s Well that Ends Well. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 811 |
| Whose words all ears took captive. |
| All s Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3. |
| 812 |
Praising what is lost Makes the remembrance dear. |
| All s Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3. |
| 813 |
| The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time. 1 |
| All s Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3. |
| 814 |
All impediments in fancys course Are motives of more fancy. |
| All s Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3. |
| 815 |
| The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. |
| All s Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3. |
| 816 |
If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came oer my ear like the sweet sound 2 That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 1. |
| 817 |
| I am sure care s an enemy to life. |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3. |
| 818 |
| At my fingers ends. 3 |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3. |
| 819 |
| Wherefore are these things hid? |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3. |
| 820 |
| Is it a world to hide virtues in? |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3. |
| 821 |
| One draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5. |
| 822 |
| We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5. |
| 823 |
T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Natures own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruellst she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. |
| Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5. |