William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it
Cry 'No recovery.'
He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it
Cry 'No recovery.'
O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
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!
Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head,
The least a death read more
Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head,
The least a death to nature.
What a case am I in. -As You Like It. Epilogue.
What a case am I in. -As You Like It. Epilogue.
A man I am, cross'd with adversity. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 1.
A man I am, cross'd with adversity. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 1.
I pardon him as God shall pardon me.
I pardon him as God shall pardon me.
At Christmas I no more desire a rose,
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But read more
At Christmas I no more desire a rose,
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But like of each thing that in season grows.
This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we
grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall read more
This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we
grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on
the coals for money.
