William Shakespeare

Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.

Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.

That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So read more

That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So excellent a king, that was to this
Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth,
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on, and yet within a month--
Let me not think on't; frailty, thy name is woman--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father's body
Like Niobe, all tears, why she, even she--
O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourned longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.

This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons pease,
And utters it again when God doth please.

This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons pease,
And utters it again when God doth please.

I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under read more

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonorable graves.