William Shakespeare

Anger is like
A full hot horse, who being allowed his way,
Self-mettle tires him.

Anger is like
A full hot horse, who being allowed his way,
Self-mettle tires him.

But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,
That things ill got had ever bad success?

But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear,
That things ill got had ever bad success?

This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please
your lordship, a kind of sleeping read more

This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please
your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson
tingling.

Remember, sir, my liege,
The kings your ancestors, together with
The natural bravery of your isle, which read more

Remember, sir, my liege,
The kings your ancestors, together with
The natural bravery of your isle, which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscalable and roaring waters,
With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats
But suck them up to th' topmast.

I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.
What is your study?

I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.
What is your study?