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Shakespeare Insults
From The Winter's Tale
Should all despair that hath revolted wives, the tenth of mankind would hang themselves
My wife's a hobby horse
I hate thee, pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave
Go rot!
She is spread of late into a goodly bulk
We need no grave to bury honesty, there's not a grain of it the face to sweeten of the whole dungy earth
Thou hast need o fmore rags to lay on thee
Having flown over may knavish professions, he settled only on rogue
If you had but looked big and spit at him, he'd have run
Thou fresh piece of excellent witchcraft
You are rough and hairy
His garments are rich but he wears them not handsomely
Here comes those I have done good to against my will
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