William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his
youth that he cannot endure in read more
But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his
youth that he cannot endure in his age.
O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet
again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping!
O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet
again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping!
If thou art rich, thou'rt poor,
For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st read more
If thou art rich, thou'rt poor,
For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is less'ned by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, read more
Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is less'ned by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
An two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind.
An two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind.
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all read more
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that lowered upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
