William Shakespeare ( 10 of 368 )
Preferment goes by letter and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to read more
Preferment goes by letter and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to th's first.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
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Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just,
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
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Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just,
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
The more my wrong, the more his spite appears.
The more my wrong, the more his spite appears.
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
And with them words of so sweet breath composed
As made the things more rich.
And with them words of so sweet breath composed
As made the things more rich.
Great men have reaching hands.
Great men have reaching hands.
