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I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .
William Shakespeare
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More from William Shakespeare

As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have; but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not" (5.3.25-28).
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Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.
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Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make good people.
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Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
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Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!
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Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
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