William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
What cracker is this same that deafs our ears
With this abundance of superfluous breath?
What cracker is this same that deafs our ears
With this abundance of superfluous breath?
There's such divinity doth hedge a king
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts read more
There's such divinity doth hedge a king
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will.
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.
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That sucked the honey of his music vows,
Now read more
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That sucked the honey of his music vows,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason
Like sweet bells jangled, out of time and harsh,
That unmatched form and feature of blown youth
Blasted with ecstasy.
Not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowed house.
I am sent, with broom, before,
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Not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowed house.
I am sent, with broom, before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
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.
Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand read more
Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for
thoughts.
Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for
thoughts.
I do desire we may be better strangers.
I do desire we may be better strangers.
