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His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for 's read more
His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for 's power to thunder. -Coriolanus. Act iii. Sc. 1.
A buck of the first head. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
A buck of the first head. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 2.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It read more
The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant. -Measure read more
O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or read more
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. -King John. Act iv. Sc. 2.
The cankers of a calm world and a long peace. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.
The cankers of a calm world and a long peace. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.
A kind Of excellent dumb discourse. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.
A kind Of excellent dumb discourse. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.
