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But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he 's most assured, His glassy read more
But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he 's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.
'T is not in the bond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
'T is not in the bond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow read more
O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phœbus in his strength,—a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.
Is most tolerable, and not to be endured. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Is most tolerable, and not to be endured. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Deeper than e'er plummet sounded. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Deeper than e'er plummet sounded. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, read more
Had I a dozen sons, each in my love alike and none less dear than thine and my good Marcius, I had rather eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. -Coriolanus. Act i. Sc. 3.
Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in read more
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burnt. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.
