William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
He has strangled
His language in his tears.
He has strangled
His language in his tears.
They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly,
But bear-like I must fight the course.
They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly,
But bear-like I must fight the course.
He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the
grinding.
Have I not tarried?
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He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the
grinding.
Have I not tarried?
Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
Have I not tarried?
Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
Still have I tarried.
Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word 'hereafter' the
kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and
the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance
to burn your lips.
Tempt not a desperate man.
Tempt not a desperate man.
I 'll not budge an inch. -The Taming of the Shrew. Induc. Sc. 1.
I 'll not budge an inch. -The Taming of the Shrew. Induc. Sc. 1.
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, read more
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life, Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, More moving-delicate and full of life Into the eye and prospect of his soul. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.
O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
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O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
I think the King is but a man as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to read more
I think the King is but a man as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to me.
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.
There are grades of vanity, there are only grades of ability in
concealing it.
There are grades of vanity, there are only grades of ability in
concealing it.
