William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile read more
O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe,
Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow.
Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe,
Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell
bullocks.
Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier. So they sell
bullocks.
O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. read more
Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Ay, gentle Thurio, for you know that love
Wilt creep in service where it cannot go.
Ay, gentle Thurio, for you know that love
Wilt creep in service where it cannot go.
(Pedro:) In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
(Beatrice:) Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it read more
(Pedro:) In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
(Beatrice:) Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the
windy side of care.
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.
This is very midsummer madness. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.
This is very midsummer madness. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.
O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
Then with passion would I shake the world,
read more
O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
Then with passion would I shake the world,
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.
