Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Give every man your ear, but few thy voice. Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Give every man your ear, but few thy voice. Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
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O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face.
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.
An honest exceeding poor man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
An honest exceeding poor man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Patch grief with proverbs. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
Patch grief with proverbs. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
