William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what read more
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what they sue for: redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will,
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindess shall his death draw out
To ling'ring sufferance.
I heard a bird so sing,
Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
I heard a bird so sing,
Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand
When his fair angels would salute by palm,
read more
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand
When his fair angels would salute by palm,
But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail
And say there is no sin but to be rich;
And being rich, my virtue then shall be
To say there is no vice but beggary.
A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.
A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.
To leave this keen encounter of our wits. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.
To leave this keen encounter of our wits. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.
Company, villanous company, hath been the spoil of me. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Company, villanous company, hath been the spoil of me. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 3.
The human mortals. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.
The human mortals. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Stoop, boys. This gate
Instructs you how t' adore the heavens and bows you
To a morning's read more
Stoop, boys. This gate
Instructs you how t' adore the heavens and bows you
To a morning's holy office.
Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how read more
Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.
It is engend'red in the eyes,
With gazing fed, and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell
bullocks.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell
bullocks.
