William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears.
But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears.
Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.
Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
O, read more
Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
O, that that earth which kept the world in awe
Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw!
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.
The miserable have no other medicine But only hope.
The miserable have no other medicine But only hope.
That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So read more
That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So excellent a king, that was to this
Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth,
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on, and yet within a month--
Let me not think on't; frailty, thy name is woman--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father's body
Like Niobe, all tears, why she, even she--
O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourned longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
