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 plays of William Shakspeare, pr. from the text of the corrected copies ... - Page 105
by William Shakespeare - 1823
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