1963 ordspråk av William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face
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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank.
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
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How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after.
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How use doth breed a habit in man!
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Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
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I am a feather for each wind that blows
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I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.
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I am a kind of burr; I shall stick.
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I am a man more sinned against than sinning.
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I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.
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I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other's good
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I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too.
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I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient.
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I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
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I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.
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