William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
I never heard a passion so confused,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable
As the dog Jew read more
I never heard a passion so confused,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:
'My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!
Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats!'
But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hews down read more
But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hews down and fells the hardest-timbered oak.
Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.
Sorrow so royally read more
Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.
Sorrow so royally in you appears
That I will deeply put the fashion on
And wear it in my heart.
Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the read more
Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
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.
I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell read more
I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face; call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me— -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I do not like
the fashion of your garments.
You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I do not like
the fashion of your garments.
When he shall die Take him and cut him in little stars And he will make the face of heaven read more
When he shall die Take him and cut him in little stars And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
