William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
There's something in't
More than my father's skill, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his read more
There's something in't
More than my father's skill, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his good receipt
Shall for my legacy be sanctified
By th' luckiest stars in heaven; and would your honor
But give me leave to thy success, I'd venture
The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure
By such a day and hour.
I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and read more
I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing. O, Proserpina,
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's wagon; daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength--a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one.
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.
A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.
O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable
deal of sack!
O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable
deal of sack!
We are oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much proved, that with devotion's visage
And pious read more
We are oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much proved, that with devotion's visage
And pious action we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.
In time we hate that which we often fear.
In time we hate that which we often fear.
So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
read more
So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall'n on th' inventors' heads.
You taught me language, and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
read more
You taught me language, and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language!
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look.
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look.
A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
read more
A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;
As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.