William Shakespeare

There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. read more

There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of read more

No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens. and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.

What fates impose, that men must needs abide; It boots not to resist both wind and tide

What fates impose, that men must needs abide; It boots not to resist both wind and tide

But jealous souls will not be answered so;
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But read more

But jealous souls will not be answered so;
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But jealous for they're jealous.
'Tis a monster
Begot upon itself, born on itself.

This Tharsus, o'er which I have the government,
A city on whom Plenty held full hand,
For read more

This Tharsus, o'er which I have the government,
A city on whom Plenty held full hand,
For Riches strewed herself even in her streets;
Whose towers bore heads so high they kissed the clouds,
And strangers ne'er beheld but wond'red at;
Whose men and dames so jetted and adorned,
Like one another's glass to trim them by;
Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight,
And not so much to feed on as delight;
All poverty was scorned, and pride so great
The name of help grew odious to repeat.