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" She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way... "
King Lear: A Tragedy in Five Acts - Page 59
by William Shakespeare - 1808 - 78 pages
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The British orator

Thomas King Greenbank - 1849
...have supp'd full with horrors : Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord,...dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no...
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The Dramatic Works of W. Shakespeare

William Shakespeare - 1849 - 925 pages
...familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was that cry! Set/. The qurcn, z k walking phadow : a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no...
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Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volume 16

1849
...apartments, lie asks — " Wherefore was that cry ? " Seytnn. — The queen, my lord, is dead. " Macbeth. — olled Above the cities of a world gone by ! Sand hath...! High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast walking shadow ; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no...
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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: Winter's tale. Comedy of errors ...

William Shakespeare - 1850 - 38 pages
...supped full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord,...To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; 1 And all our yesterdays have...
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The dramatic (poetical) works of William Shakspeare; illustr ..., Volume 3

William Shakespeare - 1850
...full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb....To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; J And all our yesterdays have...
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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare...: Embracing a Life of ..., Volume 3

William Shakespeare - 1850
...full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb....such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, To the last syllable of recorded time ; 1 Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, And all our yesterdays...
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The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: With a Life of the Poet, and ...

William Shakespeare - 1851
...supped full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is...dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no...
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Dictionary of Shakespearian Quotations: Exhibiting the Most Forcible ...

William Shakespeare - 1851 - 418 pages
...vacation: for they sleep between term and term, and then they perceive not how time moves. AY iii. 2. She should have died hereafter ; There would have...dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player, That struts and frets bis hour upon the stage, And then is heard no...
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The Comedies, Histories, Tragedies, and Poems of William Shakspere, Volume 1

William Shakespeare - 1851
...thoughts, Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was that cry? SEY. The queen, my lord, is dead. MACR. She should have died hereafter; There would have been...To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty paee from day to day, To the last syllable of reeorded time ; And all our yesterdays have...
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Studies from the English poets

George Frederick Graham - 1852 - 519 pages
...supped full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. — Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is...dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadmo ; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no...
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