William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy. -Troilus and read more
Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 3.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, read more
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never read more
Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.
Promising is the very air o' th' time; it opens the eyes of
expectation. Performance is ever duller for read more
Promising is the very air o' th' time; it opens the eyes of
expectation. Performance is ever duller for his act; and, but in
the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is
quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable;
performance is a kind of will or testament which argues a great
sickness in his judgment that makes it.
We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff
read more
We shall be winnowed with so rough a wind
That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff
And good from bad find no partition.
Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; read more
Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeered!
The early village cock
Hath twice done salutation to the morn:
Your friends are up and buckle read more
The early village cock
Hath twice done salutation to the morn:
Your friends are up and buckle on their armor.
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again.
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and I think
The read more
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many thing by season seasoned are
To their right praise and true perfection!
