William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies,
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms
read more
Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies,
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms
And secretly to greet the empress's friends.
This is very midsummer madness. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.
This is very midsummer madness. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.
O heaven! were man But constant, he were perfect. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act v. Sc. 4.
O heaven! were man But constant, he were perfect. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act v. Sc. 4.
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Caesar cried, 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'
But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
Caesar cried, 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'
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.
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Although read more
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus gins arise,
His steeds to water at read more
Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes.
With every thing that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise,
Arise, arise!
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance read more
The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance more than things long past. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. -As You Like It. read more
I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4.
