William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more read more
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge
That no king can corrupt.
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge
That no king can corrupt.
I dote on his very absence.
I dote on his very absence.
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently. For in the very read more
Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently. For in the very torrent, tempest, and as I may say, whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.
In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
read more
In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismayed away.
So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
read more
So shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall'n on th' inventors' heads.
I dote on his very absence, and I wish them a fair departure.
I dote on his very absence, and I wish them a fair departure.
What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? Speak, read more
What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!
'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are read more
'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.