All is lost! This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players
O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears
His company must do his minions grace, whilst I at home starve for a merry look
Thou art not holy to belie me so
This Is The Excellent Foppery Of The World
Is this a dagger which I see before me
Double, double toil and trouble
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Mislike me not for my complexion
How happy some o'er other some can be!
O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter?
Her father loved me; oft invited me
Of comfort no man speak! Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs
Now is the winter of our discontent
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
We are such stuff As dreams are made on
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Julien Grandgagnage