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Сторінка 297 - Our love was new, and then but in the spring, When I was wont to greet it with my lays; As Philomel in summer's front doth sing, And stops her pipe in growth of riper days: Not that the summer is less pleasant now Than...
Сторінка 201 - Where is the man who has the power and skill To stem the torrent of a woman's will ? For if she will, she will, you may depend on't. And if she won't, she won't; so there's an end on't.
Сторінка 60 - No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never!
Сторінка 310 - Signior Donado, you have said enough, I understand you; but would have you know I will not force my daughter 'gainst her will. You see I have but two, a son and her; And he is so devoted to his book, As I must tell you true, I doubt his health: Should he miscarry, all my hopes rely Upon my girl.
Сторінка 153 - Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked, or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee, Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me: Let me not burst in ignorance!
Сторінка 259 - Wherein I had part with him ; sir, be cheerful, 'Tis not the reeling fortune of great state, Or low condition, that I cast mine eye at, It is the man I seek, the rest I lose, As things unworthy to be kept or noted ; Fortunes are but the outsides of true worth, It is the mind that sets his master forth.
Сторінка 134 - Fly, fly, profane fogs, far hence fly away, Taint not the pure streams of the springing day With your dull influence ; it is for you To sit and scowl upon night's heavy brow ; Not on the fresh cheeks of the virgin morn...
Сторінка 208 - I'll thunder you in pieces : I will teach you How to beware to tempt a Fury again, That carries tempest in his hand and voice. Face. The place has made you valiant.
Сторінка 184 - will ever remain for a witness to the world that those sweet and large affections in him could no more be contracted with the narrowness of pain, grief, or sickness, than any sparkle of our immortality can be privately buried in the shadow of death.