William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
He wants nothing of a god but eternity and a heaven to throne in.
He wants nothing of a god but eternity and a heaven to throne in.
Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? . . . And the
creature run from the read more
Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? . . . And the
creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great
image of authority--a dog's obeyed in office.
The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your
lordship.
The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your
lordship.
Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay. Good hay,
sweet hay, hath no fellow.
Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay. Good hay,
sweet hay, hath no fellow.
But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale read more
But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all read more
His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder.
If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good
play needs no epilogue.
If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good
play needs no epilogue.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
Rumor is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a read more
Rumor is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a stop
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it.
