William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.
Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 3.
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An read more
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An hour by his dial. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
In time we hate that which we often fear.
In time we hate that which we often fear.
For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
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For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings!
How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,
Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed--
All murdered; for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks;
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life
Were brass impregnable; and humored thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence, Throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
For you have but mistook me all this while.
I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends. Subjected thus,
I will make an end of my dinner--there's pippins and seese to
come.
I will make an end of my dinner--there's pippins and seese to
come.
He will give the devil his due.
He will give the devil his due.
He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she read more
He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will
smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her
disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it
cannot but turn him into a notable contempt.
Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before read more
Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
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Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou are crowned, not that I am dead.
