William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
O God! that one might read the book of fate,
And see the revolution of the times
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O God! that one might read the book of fate,
And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level. and the continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
Into the sea!
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
And welcome home again discarded faith.
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
And welcome home again discarded faith.
The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are read more
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that read more
Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn: But my kisses bring again, bring again; Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain. -Measure for Measure. Act iv. Sc. 1.
There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature of the times deceased,
The which read more
There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature of the times deceased,
The which observed, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, which in their seeds
And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
Give me that man
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
In my heart's read more
Give me that man
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act read more
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act v. Sc. 3.
