William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the read more
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
read more
For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,
Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed--
All murdered; for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks;
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life
Were brass impregnable; and humored thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence, Throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
For you have but mistook me all this while.
I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends. Subjected thus,
Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently. For in the very read more
Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently. For in the very torrent, tempest, and as I may say, whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That read more
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she read more
He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will
smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her
disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it
cannot but turn him into a notable contempt.
'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are read more
'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.
Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to
all others because you were born in it.
Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to
all others because you were born in it.
To be or not to be that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings read more
To be or not to be that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them.
Who wooed in haste and means to wed at leisure
Who wooed in haste and means to wed at leisure
And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale, and this cuff was but
to knock at your ear, and beseech read more
And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale, and this cuff was but
to knock at your ear, and beseech listening.
