William Shakespeare

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind:
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
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My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind:
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each.

I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
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I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood so cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death
That is but scratched withal. I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Dictynna, goodman Dull. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Dictynna, goodman Dull. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.

O, good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for read more

O, good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.