William Shakespeare ( 10 of 368 )
'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.
'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.
I'll potch at him some way;
Or wrath or craft may get him.
I'll potch at him some way;
Or wrath or craft may get him.
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
My high-blown pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me
Weary and old with read more
My high-blown pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me
Weary and old with service.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied read more
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Wise men ne'er wail their present woes.
Wise men ne'er wail their present woes.
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders, where it is.
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders, where it is.
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
A Daniel still say I, a second Daniel!
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.
A Daniel still say I, a second Daniel!
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.
We ne'er shall look upon his like again.
We ne'er shall look upon his like again.
