The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
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21 allegories found
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The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
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It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves
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Alea iacta est
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Divide et impera.
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Fama volat.
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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Et tu, Brute?
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Beware the Ides of March.
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Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
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Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.
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