Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.
I would that I were low laid in my grave.
I am not worth this coil that's made for read more
I would that I were low laid in my grave.
I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh
And sees fast-by a butcher with an axe,
But read more
Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh
And sees fast-by a butcher with an axe,
But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter?
The best in this kind are but shadows. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
The best in this kind are but shadows. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light; . . .
The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light; . . .
