William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each read more
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show;
False face must hide what the false heart doth khow.
Away, and mock the time with fairest show;
False face must hide what the false heart doth khow.
I'll privily away; I love the people,
But do not like to stage me to their eyes;
read more
I'll privily away; I love the people,
But do not like to stage me to their eyes;
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause and aves vehement,
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion
That does not affect it.
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all read more
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that lowered upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
(Pistol:) And tidings do I bring and lucky joys
And golden times and happy news of price.
read more
(Pistol:) And tidings do I bring and lucky joys
And golden times and happy news of price.
(Falstaff:) I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this
world.
'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester,
'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.'
And since, methinks, read more
'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester,
'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.'
And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet flow'rs are slow and weeds make haste.
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still;
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still;
My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.
Let me take you a button-hole lower. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.
Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet read more
Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of
his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike; make not a
City feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the
first place; sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.
I see my reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly gored.
I see my reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly gored.
