William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
The quality of mercy is not strain'd; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It read more
The quality of mercy is not strain'd; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
Lord, what fools these mortals be.
Lord, what fools these mortals be.
To be, or not to be--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
read more
To be, or not to be--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to.
The better part of valour is discretion.
The better part of valour is discretion.
Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, read more
Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses,
Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroyed his country; and his name remains
To th' ensuing age abhorred,' Speak to me son.
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
And yet to change thy sulphur with a bolt
That should rive an oak.
Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was for read more
Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh that it would fly
From so divine a temple to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.
What cracker is this same that deafs our ears
With this abundance of superfluous breath?
What cracker is this same that deafs our ears
With this abundance of superfluous breath?
Contemplation makes a rare turkey cock of him. How he jets under
his advanced plumes!
Contemplation makes a rare turkey cock of him. How he jets under
his advanced plumes!
Not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowed house.
I am sent, with broom, before,
read more
Not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowed house.
I am sent, with broom, before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
For I can raise no money by vile means.
For I can raise no money by vile means.
