William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 5.
And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 5.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
To be or not to be that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the read more
To be or not to be that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the stings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take up arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing them, end them. Hamlet
An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: Give him read more
An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: Give him a little earth for charity! -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements.
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements.
There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow
There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow
Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a
goose-pen, no matter.
Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a
goose-pen, no matter.
What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.
What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.
The language I have learnt these forty years,
My native English, now I must forgo;
And now read more
The language I have learnt these forty years,
My native English, now I must forgo;
And now my tongue's use is to me no more
Than an unstringed viol or a harp,
Or like a cunning instrument cased up
Or, being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. -King Richard III. Act i. read more
The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.
