The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
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368 allegories found
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The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
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Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
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There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
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This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
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It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves
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To be, or not to be, that is the question.
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So often the cat goes to the lard that it leaves its paw print.
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Vox populi, vox Dei.
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Vivere est militare.
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Vita est militia.
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