William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
read more
Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Whose weakness married to thy stronger state
Makes with me thy strength to communicate.
If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;
Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion
Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion.
If I shall be condemned
Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
But what your jealousies awake, I read more
If I shall be condemned
Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
'Tis rigor and not law.
(Pedro:) Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best
becomes you for out o' question you were read more
(Pedro:) Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best
becomes you for out o' question you were born in a merry hour.
(Beatrice:) No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there
was a star danced, and under that was I born.
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
The meat it read more
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts--suspects, yet strongly loves!
He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his read more
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
There is not one wise man in twenty that will praise himself.
There is not one wise man in twenty that will praise himself.
Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell
Civil dissension is a viperous worm
That gnaws the read more
Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell
Civil dissension is a viperous worm
That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.
Assume a virtue if you have it not.
Assume a virtue if you have it not.
An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: Give him read more
An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye: Give him a little earth for charity! -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.
