Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation,...
The works of Shakspere, revised from the best authorities: with a memoir and ... - Page 13
by William Shakespeare - 1843
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