1963 ordspråk av William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport.
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As from a bear a man would run for life, So fly I from her that would be my wife
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As good luck would have it.
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As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
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As in a theatre, the eyes of men, after a well-graced actor leaves the stage, are idly bent on him that enters next.
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As merry as the day is long.
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As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
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As You Like It
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Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
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Assume a virtue if you have it not.
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At Christmas I no more desire a rose - Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows
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At your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble.
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Authority, though it err like others, hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, that skins the vice off the top
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Away, slight man!
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Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
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