William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
It is the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman
Which gives the stern'st good-night.
It is the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman
Which gives the stern'st good-night.
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3.
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3.
'T is not in the bond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
'T is not in the bond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
How goes it now, sir? This news which is called true is so like
an old tale that the read more
How goes it now, sir? This news which is called true is so like
an old tale that the verity of it is in strong suspicion.
Now, ye familiar spirits that are culled
Out of the powerful legions under earth,
Help me this read more
Now, ye familiar spirits that are culled
Out of the powerful legions under earth,
Help me this once, that France may get the field.
She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter:
I say she never did invent this letter;
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She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter:
I say she never did invent this letter;
This is a man's invention and his hand.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
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By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if me my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
True is it that we have seen better days. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
True is it that we have seen better days. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do! -Much Ado read more
O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do! -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.
The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise read more
The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
