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It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
— As You Like It, Act IV Scene 1
KEYWORD: hope
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1 |
For mine own part,—no offence to the general, nor
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2 |
I' faith, I fear it has.
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3 |
Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him I have
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4 |
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest. |
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5 |
Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago;
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6 |
If you say so, I hope you will not kill me. |
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7 |
That death's unnatural that kills for loving.
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