William Shakespeare

That in the captain 's but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. -Measure for Measure. Act read more

That in the captain 's but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

So full of artless jealousy is guilt
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

So full of artless jealousy is guilt
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee read more

Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

O my prophetic soul!
My uncle?

O my prophetic soul!
My uncle?

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look
Upon that read more

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion. Wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?