Maxioms by William Shakespeare
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the read more
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace As mercy does. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.
O how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
O how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God,
My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee.
Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God,
My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee.
Who lined himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. read more
Who lined himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
When read more
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
When we would bring him on to some confession
Of his true state.
