William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
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Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt, that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child.
The Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.
The Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.
The selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.
The selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.
We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff
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We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff
And good from bad find no partition.
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
In that day's feats,
When he might act the woman in the scene,
He prov'd best man read more
In that day's feats,
When he might act the woman in the scene,
He prov'd best man i' th' field, and for his meed
Was brow-bound with the oak.
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.
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.
