Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge legs, and peep about to find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates.
Men may construe things after their own fashion, clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
Dwell I but in the suburbs of your good pleasure ?
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me; but I am constant as the northern star, of whose true fix'd and resting quality there is no fellow in the firmament.
Cry 'Havoc !' and let slip the dogs of war, that this foul deed shall smell above the earth with carrion men, groaning for burial.
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<P>Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge legs, and peep about to find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates.</P>
<P CLASS="left">Men may construe things after their own fashion, clean from the purpose of the things themselves.</P>
<P CLASS="right">Dwell I but in the suburbs of your good pleasure ?</P>
<P CLASS="top">If I could pray to move, prayers would move me; but I am constant as the northern star, of whose true fix'd and resting quality there is no fellow in the firmament.</P>
<P CLASS="bottom">Cry 'Havoc !' and let slip the dogs of war, that this foul deed shall smell above the earth with carrion men, groaning for burial.</P>
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