Caesar

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He is a dreamer; let us leave him.
Beware the ides of march.
My heart laments that virtue cannot live out of the teeth of emulation.
Et tu, Brute?
Speak hands for me.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.
Brutus, bait not me.
Thy life hath had some smatch of honor in it. Hold my sword, and turn away thy face while i run upon it.

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