William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
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.
See, your guests approach.
Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.
See, your guests approach.
Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.
Oft expectation fails and most oft there Where most it promises, and oft it hits Where hope is coldest and read more
Oft expectation fails and most oft there Where most it promises, and oft it hits Where hope is coldest and despair most fits.
I tell you that which you yourselves do know,
Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,
read more
I tell you that which you yourselves do know,
Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,
And bid them speak for me.
Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.
Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.
It must be so, for miracles are ceased
And therefore we must needs admit the means
How read more
It must be so, for miracles are ceased
And therefore we must needs admit the means
How things are perfected.
Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of read more
Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long,
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm.
So hallowed and so gracious is that time.
That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.
That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What read more
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!
By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
Than can read more
By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers
Armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond.
