William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
In time we hate that which we often fear.
In time we hate that which we often fear.
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before read more
Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
To be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved.
To be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, brags of his substance: they are but beggars who can count their read more
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, brags of his substance: they are but beggars who can count their worth.
Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
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O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!
Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wracks;
A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea:
Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep
And mocked the dead bones that lay scatt'red by.
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
