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'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's read more
'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.
When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls read more
When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls the craft
Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed
The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled
Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled
With melody divine.
Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better read more
Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4.
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.
I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
I 'll tickle your catastrophe. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.
'T is well said again, And 't is a kind of good deed to say well: And yet words are read more
'T is well said again, And 't is a kind of good deed to say well: And yet words are no deeds. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
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.
As merry as the day is long. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.
As merry as the day is long. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.
