William Shakespeare

He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a read more

He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. -King John. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Aggravate your choler. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Aggravate your choler. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks. read more

Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks. Her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.

Weeds are shallow-rooted,
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want read more

Weeds are shallow-rooted,
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.

Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, read more

Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses,
Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroyed his country; and his name remains
To th' ensuing age abhorred,' Speak to me son.
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
And yet to change thy sulphur with a bolt
That should rive an oak.