William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act read more
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act v. Sc. 3.
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; Lofty and sour to them read more
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; Lofty and sour to them that loved him not, But to those men that sought him sweet as summer. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, read more
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered,
read more
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered,
And then all this thou seest is but a clod
And module of confounded royalty.
O, what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's read more
O, what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot
And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!
By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of read more
By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had read more
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.
I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The read more
I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart.
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duty's rites.
She bears a duke's revenues on her back,
And in her heart she scorns our poverty.
She bears a duke's revenues on her back,
And in her heart she scorns our poverty.
