Maxioms by William Shakespeare
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows.
They are polluted off'rings, more abhorred!
Than spotted read more
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows.
They are polluted off'rings, more abhorred!
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 4.
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 4.
Ingratitude is monstrous; and for the multitude to be ingrateful
were to make a monster of the multitude; of read more
Ingratitude is monstrous; and for the multitude to be ingrateful
were to make a monster of the multitude; of which we being
members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their read more
All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
