William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his
own trumpet, his own chronicle; and read more
He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his
own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but
in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I know
a hawk from a handsaw.
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I know
a hawk from a handsaw.
I never saw so many shocking bad hats in my life.
I never saw so many shocking bad hats in my life.
What infinite heart's-ease
Must kings neglect that private men enjoy!
And what have kings that privates have read more
What infinite heart's-ease
Must kings neglect that private men enjoy!
And what have kings that privates have not too,
Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.
We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.
Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out read more
Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
read more
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.
A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the
very ice of chastity is in them.
A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the
very ice of chastity is in them.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
None can be called deformed but the unkind.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
None can be called deformed but the unkind.
O cunning enemy that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook: most dangerous
Is read more
O cunning enemy that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook: most dangerous
Is that temptation that doth goad us on
To sin in loving virtue.
