Tuesday, October 28, 2014

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Othello:  Where should Othello go?
Now how dost thou look now?  O ill-sarr'd wench!
Pale as thy smock! When we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
And fiends will snatch at it.  Cold, cold, my girl!
Even like thy chastity.
O! cursed, cursed slave.  Whip me, ye devils,
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead!

Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 5, Scene 2

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Othello:  Behold!  I have a weapon;
A better never did itself sustain
Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day,
That with this little arm, and this good sword,
I have made my way thorugh more impediments
Than twenty times your stop: but, o vain boast!
Who can control his fate?  'tis not so now.

Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 5, Scene 2

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Othello:  Put out the light, and then put out the light;
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me; but once put out thy light,
I know not where is that promethean heat
That can thy light relume.  When I have pluck'd the rose,
I cannot give it vital growth again,
It needs must wither:  I'll smell it on the tree.

Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 5, Scene 2

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

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Roderigo: I have no great devotion to the deed;
And yet he has given me satisfying reasons:
'Tis but a man gone: forth, my sword; he dies.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 5, Scene 1

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Desdemona: Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
Emilia: The world is a huge thing; 'tis a great price
For a small vice.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 4, Scene 3

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Othello: Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 4, Scene 2

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Othello:  If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1

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Iago: O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world!
To be direct and honest is not safe.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 3, Scene 3

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Othello:  I swear 'tis better to be much abus'd
Than but to know't a little.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 3, Scene 3

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Iago: O! beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the grean-ey'd monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, O! what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet soundly loves!


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 3, Scene 3

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Iago: Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls:
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 3, Scene 3

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Casio: I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so
good a commander with so slight, so drunken and so in-
discreet and officer.  Drunk! and speak parrot! and squab-
ble, swagger, swear, and discourse fustian with one's own
shadow! O thou invisible spirit of wine! if thou hast no
name to be known by, let us call thee devil!
...
I remember a mass of things, but nothing dis-
tinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore.  O God!  That
men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away
their brains; that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel,
and applause, transform ourselves into beasts.
...
It hath pleased the devil drunkness to give place
to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me another,
to make me frankly despise myself.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 2, Scene 3

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Casio: Reputation, reputation, reputation! O! I have lost
my reputation.  I have lost the immortal part of myself,
and what remains is bestial.


Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 2, Scene 3

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Iago: But men are men; the best some times forget:

Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 2, Scene 3

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

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Casio: Not tonight, good Iago: I have very poor and un-
happy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy
would invent some other custom of entertainment.

Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 2, Scene 3

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Iago: Lechery, by this hand! an index and obscure pro-
logue to the history of lust and foul thoughts.

Othello, the Moor of Venice, Act 2, Scene 1

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Iago: Sir, would she give you so much of her lips
As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
You'd have enough.

Othello, the Moor of Venice Act 2, Scene 1

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Iago:  There are many events in the womb of time which
will be delivered.

Othello, The Moor of Venice, Act 1, Scene 2

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Iago: Virtue! A fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus, or
thus.  Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills
are gardeners; so that if we will plant nettles or sow let-
tuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one
gender of herbs or distract it with many, either to have it
sterile with idleness or manured with industry, why, the
power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.  If
the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to
poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our
natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclu-
sions; but we have reason to cool our raging motions, our
carnal stings, or unbitted lusts, where of I take this that
you call love to be a sect or scion.

Othello, The Moor of Venice, Act 1, Scene 2

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Brabantio: But words are words; I never yet did hear
That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear.

Othello, The Moor of Venice, Act 1, Scene 2

Thursday, October 2, 2014

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Duke: When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserv'd when Fortune takes,
Patience her injury a mockery makes.
The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.

Othello the Moor of Venice, Act 1, Scene 2

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Othello:  And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke.
That my youth suffer'd.  My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:

Othello the Moor of Venice, Act 1, Scene 3

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Brabantio:  Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
By what you see them act.

Othello the Moor of Venice, Act 1, Scene 1

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Iago:  I am one, sir, that comes to tell you, your daughter
and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

Othello the Moor of Venice, Act I, Scene I

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Iago: ...mere prattle, without practice,
Is all his scholarship.

Othello The Moor of Venice, Act 1, Scene 1

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Albany:  The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

King Lear, Act 5, Scene 3

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Cordelia: All bless'd secrets,
All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
Spring with my tears! be ardant and remediate
In the good man's distress!  Seek, seek for him,
Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
That wants the means to end it.

King Lear, Act 4, Scene 4

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Albany:  Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile;
Filths savour but themselves.

King Lear, Act 4, Scene 2

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Albany: O Goneril!
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
Blows in your face.

King Lear, Act 4, Scene 2

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

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Cornwall:  Though well we may not pass upon his life
without the form of justice, yet our power
shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
may blame but not control.

King Lear, Act 3, Scene 7