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Famous Quotations from Cymbeline
Lest the bargain should catch cold and starve. (1.4.159)
If she be furnished with a mind so rare,
She is alone the Arabian bird, and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
Arm me, audacity. (1.6.17)
Every Jack-slave hath his bellyful of
fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that
nobody can match. (2.1.19)
Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily,
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss: one kiss! Rubies unparagoned,
How dearly they do't! 'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus; the flame of the taper
Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure laced
With blue of heaven's own tinct. (2.2.15)
On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
I' the bottom of a cowslip. (2.2.38)
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes:
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise! (2.3.22)
Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half-workers? (2.5.1)
I thought her
As chaste as unsunned snow. (2.5.13)
The natural bravery of your isle, which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscalable, and roaring waters. (3.1.19)
O, for a horse with wings! (3.2.50)
What should we speak of
When we are old as you? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing. (3.3.35)
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature! (3.3.80)
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? (3.4.141)
No, 'Tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world. (3.4.35)
Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him:
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion. (3.4.53)
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness. (3.4.99)
I have not slept one wink. (3.4.109)
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. (3.4.206)
Weariness
Can snore upon the flint when resty sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. (3.6.34)
Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
Is jollity for apes and grief for boys. (4.2.241)
Though mean and mighty rotting
Together, have one dust, yet reverence --
That angel of the world -- doth make distinction
Of place 'tween high and low. (4.2.306)
Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. (4.2.325)
Every good servant does not all commands. (5.1.6)
He that sleeps feels not the toothache. (5.4.177)
Hang there like fruit, my soul,
Till the tree die. (5.5.310)
O, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker. You call'd me brother
When I was but your sister. (5.5.451)
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