William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
He is well paid that is well satisfied,
And I delivering you am satisfied,
And therein do read more
He is well paid that is well satisfied,
And I delivering you am satisfied,
And therein do account myself well paid;
My mind was never yet more mercenary.
Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
read more
Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been performed
Too terrible for the ear. The time has been
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end. But now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools. This is more strange
Than such a murder is.
Let a man be but in earnest in praying against a temptation as
the tempter is in pressing it, read more
Let a man be but in earnest in praying against a temptation as
the tempter is in pressing it, and he needs not proceed by a
surer measure.
Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason read more
Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
What, man, defy the devil? Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
What, man, defy the devil? Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of
the fish that read more
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of
the fish that hath fed of that worm.
There is one pain I often feel, which you will never know. It is caused by the absence of you.
There is one pain I often feel, which you will never know. It is caused by the absence of you.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, read more
Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
