William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, read more
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, More moving-delicate and full of life Into the eye and prospect of his soul. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Ten day ago I drowned these news in tears;
And now, to add more measure to your woes,
read more
Ten day ago I drowned these news in tears;
And now, to add more measure to your woes,
I come to tell you things sith then befallen.
But in this point
All his tricks founder and he brings his physic
After his patient's death: read more
But in this point
All his tricks founder and he brings his physic
After his patient's death: the king already
Hath married the fair lady.
There is no darkness but ignorance.
There is no darkness but ignorance.
This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please
your lordship, a kind of sleeping read more
This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please
your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson
tingling.
So our virtues Lie in the interpretation of the time
So our virtues Lie in the interpretation of the time
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And read more
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit,
And so he'll die; and rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
I shall not know him.
What wound did ever heal but my degrees?
What wound did ever heal but my degrees?
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.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It read more
The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.