William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
I do remember an apothecary,
And hereabouts 'a dwells, which late I noted
In tatt'red weeds, with read more
I do remember an apothecary,
And hereabouts 'a dwells, which late I noted
In tatt'red weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples. Meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuffed, and other skins
Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
Were thinly scattered, to make up a show.
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Caesar cried, 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Caesar cried, 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'
This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick
in fortune, often the surfeits of read more
This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick
in fortune, often the surfeits of our own behavior, we make
guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and stars; as if we
were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves,
thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards,
liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary
influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on.
An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish
disposition on the charge of a star.
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry.
But were read more
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry.
But were we burd'ned with like weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain:
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me;
But if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool-begged patience in thee will be left.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. -A Midsummer Night's read more
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.
If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of read more
If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 5.
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.
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And read more
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty;
Who doth the world so gloriously behold
That cedar tops and hills seem burnished gold.
Methinks a father
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
That best becomes the table.
Methinks a father
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
That best becomes the table.