William Shakespeare

Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame, And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. -King John. Act read more

Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame, And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Thy gown? Why, ay--come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is there?
What's read more

Thy gown? Why, ay--come, tailor, let us see't.
O mercy, God, what masquing stuff is there?
What's this, a sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
What, up and down carved like an apple tart?
Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
Like to a censer in a barber's shop.
Why, what's a devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?

I do love
My country's good with a respect more tender,
More holy and profound, then mine read more

I do love
My country's good with a respect more tender,
More holy and profound, then mine own life,
My dear wife's estimate, her womb increase,
And treasure of my loins.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound

He jests at scars that never felt a wound

'Tis gold
Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
read more

'Tis gold
Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
This deer to th' stand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief,
Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man.