William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes! -As You Like It. Act v. read more
How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes! -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 2.
A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent
lamb should be made parchment? that read more
Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent
lamb should be made parchment? that parchment, being scribbled
o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings, but I say 'tis
the bee's wax; for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was
never mind own man since.
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand
When his fair angels would salute by palm,
read more
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand
When his fair angels would salute by palm,
But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail
And say there is no sin but to be rich;
And being rich, my virtue then shall be
To say there is no vice but beggary.
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. -King Henry IV. Part read more
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. -As You Like It. read more
Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.
She bears a duke's revenues on her back,
And in her heart she scorns our poverty.
She bears a duke's revenues on her back,
And in her heart she scorns our poverty.
It is religion to be thus forsworn,
For charity itself fulfills the law
And who can never read more
It is religion to be thus forsworn,
For charity itself fulfills the law
And who can never love from charity?
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what read more
Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what they sue for: redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will,
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindess shall his death draw out
To ling'ring sufferance.
O, what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's read more
O, what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot
And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!
