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Shakespeare Insults
From Troilus and Cressida
He is melancholy without cause
A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint
Why, this have not a fingers decency
Though stool for a witch
Thou sodden witted Lord
Thou has no more brain than I have in mine elbows
Though thing of no bowels, thou
Though you bite so sharp at reasons, you are so empty of them
That were to enlard his fat already pride
I had rather be a tick ina sheep than such a valiant ignorance
Thou crusty batch of nature
Why, thou full dish of fool
He has not so much brain as ear wax
Nothing but lechery, all incontinent varlets
You ruinious butt, you whoreson indistinguishable cur
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