William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little read more
When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.
Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence--
read more
Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence--
Some to kill canters in the musk-rose buds,
Some war with reremice for their leathren wings,
To make my small elves coats, and some keep back
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and wonders
At our quaint spirits.
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I know
a hawk from a handsaw.
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I know
a hawk from a handsaw.
Nay, do not think I flatter.
For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue read more
Nay, do not think I flatter.
For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue hast but thy good spirits
To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?
No, let the candied tongue like absurd pomp,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
Where thrift may follow fawning.
All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears out more apparel
than the man. But art read more
All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears out more apparel
than the man. But art not thou thyself giddy with the fashion
too, that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of
the fashion?
In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
None can be called deformed but the unkind.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
None can be called deformed but the unkind.
. . . For slander lives upon succession,
For ever housed where it gets possession.
. . . For slander lives upon succession,
For ever housed where it gets possession.
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 3.
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk. -King Richard III. Act iv. Sc. 3.
I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true. -The Winter's Tale. Act read more
I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.
There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. read more
There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.
