William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
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Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in read more
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burnt. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.
Masters, spread yourselves. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.
Masters, spread yourselves. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.
Et tu, Brute?--Then fall Caesar.
Et tu, Brute?--Then fall Caesar.
Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies.
Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the Hero that here lies.
I will be hanged if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave, read more
I will be hanged if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devised this slander.
Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.
This is the very false gallop of verses. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
This is the very false gallop of verses. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Now begin;
For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing runs
Close by the ground, to hear our read more
Now begin;
For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing runs
Close by the ground, to hear our conference.
My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind:
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
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My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind:
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each.
