William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
The most senseless and fit man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
The most senseless and fit man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
Yet looks he like a king. Behold, his eye,
As bright as is the eagle's lightens forth
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Yet looks he like a king. Behold, his eye,
As bright as is the eagle's lightens forth
Controlling majesty.
These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as read more
These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume.
Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner:
Honest water, which ne'er left man i' th' mire.
Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner:
Honest water, which ne'er left man i' th' mire.
Sweets to the sweet! Farewell.
Sweets to the sweet! Farewell.
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.
Whose words all ears took captive. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
Whose words all ears took captive. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
And wiped our eyes Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
And wiped our eyes Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, read more
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
