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Shakespeare Insults
From Twelfth Night
A fellow of the strangest mind in the world
Go
shake your ears!
Go
to, your a dry fool, I'll no more of you
He speaks nothing but madman
Lady, you are the cruelst she alive
What a caterwauling do you keep here
Observe him, for the love of mockery
You are now sailed into the north of my ladies opinion, where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard
I can hardly forbear hurling things at him
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell
Fie, thou dishonest Satan
Leave thy vain bibble-babble
As ass head and a coxcomb and a knave, a thin faced knave and gull
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