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Seite 262 - Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! let the earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with ! Lady M.
Seite 147 - Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt.
Seite 28 - Every subject's duty is the king's ; but every subject's soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed, wash every mote out of his conscience...
Seite 302 - If you can look into the seeds of time, And say, which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear, Your favours, nor your hate.
Seite 285 - O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point...
Seite 201 - tis no matter ; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no : or an arm ? no : or take away the grief of a wound 1 no.
Seite 101 - Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience.
Seite 320 - Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting, That would not let me sleep : methought I lay Worse than the mutines in the bilboes.