William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
(Macbeth:) How does your patient, doctor?
(Doctor:) Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with read more
(Macbeth:) How does your patient, doctor?
(Doctor:) Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies
That keep her from her rest.
(Macbeth:) Cure her of that!
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
Pluck from the memory of a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuffed bosom of the perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
(Doctor:) Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
(Macbeth:) Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it!
Time is the justice that examines all offenders.
Time is the justice that examines all offenders.
My tables--meet it is I set it down
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
read more
My tables--meet it is I set it down
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.
The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 3.
The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 3.
So wise so young, they say, do never live long. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 1.
So wise so young, they say, do never live long. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 1.
It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.
It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.
Let fancy still in my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Let fancy still in my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of read more
O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others!
Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer's cloud
Without our special wonder?
Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer's cloud
Without our special wonder?
There 's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good read more
There 's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with 't. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
