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- Out, damned spot! out, I say!
- William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 5 scene 1
- To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 5 scene 5
- Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 2 scene 1
- And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 1 scene 3
- Cry "Havoc," and let slip the dogs of war.
- William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Julius Caesar", Act 3 scene 1
- Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Julius Caesar", Act 3 scene 2
- But, for my own part, it was Greek to me.
- William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Julius Caesar", Act 1 scene 2
- Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Julius Caesar", Act 1 scene 2
- Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Romeo and Juliet", Act 2 scene 2
- This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. - William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Romeo and Juliet", Act 2 scene 2
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