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How Ill White Hairs Become A Fool And Jester!

-William Shakespeare

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How Ill White Hairs

William Shakespeare

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How Ill White Hairs Become A Fool And Jester!

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Why, Thou Deboshed Fish Thou...wilt Thou Tell A Monstrous Lie, Being But Half A Fish And Half A Monster?

And To Be Merry Best Becomes You; For, Out Of Question, You Were Born In A Merry Hour. Beatrice No, Sure, My Lord, My Mother Cried; But Then There Was A Star Danced, And Under That Was I Born.

I Doubt Not Then But Innocence Shall Makefalse Accusation Blush, And Tyrannytremble At Patience.

That Is Not The Best Sermon Which Makes The Hearers Go Away Talking To One Another And Praising The Speaker, But Which Makes Them Go Away Thoughtful And Serious, And Hastening To Be Alone.

He Receives Comfort Like Cold Porridge.

O, That Our Fathers Would Applause Our Loves, To Seal Our Happiness With Hteir Consents!

Thou Art A Boil, A Plague Sore, An Embossed Carbuncle In My Corrupted Blood.

Let There Be Gall Enough In Thy Ink, Though Thou Write With A Goose-pen, No Matter.

Oft Expectation Fails, And Most Oft There Where Most It Promises; And Oft It Hits Where Hope Is Coldest, And Despair Most Fits.

Keeping Promises

He Was A Man, Take Him For All In All, I Shall Not Look Upon His Like Again.

The Wound Of Peace Is Surety, Surety Secure; But Modest Doubt Is Called The Beacon Of The Wise, The Tent That Searches To Th' Bottom Of The Worst.

A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By, And Then His State Empties Itself, As Dot An Inland Brook Into The Main Of Waters.

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph; I, That Am Curtailed Of This Fair Proportion, Cheated Of Feature By Dissembling Nature, Deformed, Unfinished, Sent Before My Time Into This Breathing World, Scarce Half Made Up, And That So Lamely And Unfashionable That Dogs Bark At Me As I Halt By Them,-- Why, I, In This Weak Piping Time Of Peace, Have No Delight To Pass Away The Time, Unless To Spy My Shadow In The Sun.

If The Masses Can Love Without Knowing Why, They Also Hate Without Much Foundation.

Thus Conscience Does Make Cowards Of Us All; And Thus The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Slicked O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought

There Was A Star Danced, And Under That Was I Born.

Lords, I Protest My Soul Is Full Of Woe That Blood Should Sprinkle Me To Make Me Grow. Come, Mourn With Me For What I Do Lament, And Put Sullen Black Incontinent. I'll Make A Voyage To The Holy Land To Wash This Blood Off From My Guilty Hand. March Sadly After. Grace My Mournings Here In Weeping After This Untimely Bier.

There Are Occasions And Causes, Why And Wherefore In All Things.

Zounds! Sir, You Are One Of Those That Will Not Serve God If The Devil Bid You.

Small To Greater Matters Must Give Way.

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

Two Loves I Have, Of Comfort And Despair, Which Like Two Spirits Do Suggest Me Still: The Better Angel Is A Man Right Fair, The Worser Spirit A Woman Coloured Ill.

Hold, Or Cut Bowstrings.

The Spirit Of A Youth That Means To Be Of Note, Begins Betimes.

Why, Thou Knowest I Am As Valiant As Hercules, But Beware Instinct. The Lion Will Not Touch The True Prince. Instinct Is A Great Matter. I Was A Coward On Instinct.

If Our Virtues Did Not Go Forth Of Us, It Were All Alike As If We Had Them Not.

As Chaste As Is The Bud Ere It Be Blown.

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

Manhood Is Melted Into Courtesies, Valor Into Compliment, And Men Are Only Turned Into Tongue, And Trim Ones, Too.

Now, Infidel, I Have You On The Hip!

Merchant Of Venice

The Good I Stand On Is My Truth And Honesty.

Truth And Honesty

After Your Death You Were Better Have A Bad Epitaph Than Their Ill Report While You Live.

This We Prescribe, Though No Physician; Deep Malice Makes Too Deep Incision; Forget, Forgive; Conclude And Be Agreed; Our Doctors Say This Is No Month To Bleed.

Love Adds A Precious Seeing To The Eye.

The Whirligig Of Time Brings In His Revenges.

There's Little Of The Melancholy Element In Her, My Lord: She Is Never Sad But When She Sleeps; And Not Ever Sad Then; For I Have Heard My Daughter Say, She Hath Often Dreamt Of Unhappiness, And Waked Herself With Laughing.

Do Thou Amend Thy Face, And I'll Amend My Life.

He That Is Strucken Blind Can Not Forget The Precious Treasure Of His Eyesight Lost.

Sweets Grown Common Lose Their Dear Delight.

There Is Special Providence In The Fall Of A Sparrow.

Hamlet And Ophelia

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? Thou Art More Lovely And More Temperate: Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds Of May, And Summer's Lease Hath All Too Short A Date . . .

Dissembling Harlot, Thou Art False In All!

Yield Not Thy Neck To Fortunes Yoke, But Let Thy Dauntless Mind Still Ride In Triumph Over All Mischance.

Bring Me A Constant Woman To Her Husband, One That Ne'er Dream'd A Joy Beyond His Pleasure, And To That Woman, When She Has Done Most, Yet Will I Add An Honour-a Great Patience.

Shall Remain! Hear You This Triton Of The Minnows? Mark You His Absolute 'shall'?

I Am Not Bound To Please Thee With My Answer.

O Mistress Mine, Where Are You Roaming? O, Stay And Hear; Your True Love's Coming, That Can Sing Both High And Low: Trip No Further, Pretty Sweeting; Journeys End In Lovers Meeting, Every Wise Man's Son Doth Know. What Is Love? 'tis Not Hereafter; Present Mirth Hath Present Laughter; What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies Not Plenty; Then, Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.

Why, Headstrong Liberty Is Lashed With Woe. There's Nothing Situate Under Heaven's Eye But Hath His Bound, In Earth, In Sea, In Sky.

Away, You Trifler! Love! I Love Thee Not, I Care Not For Thee, Kate: This Is No World To Play With Mammets And To Tilt With Lips: We Must Have Bloody Noses And Cracked Crowns.

The Nature Of Bad News Affects The Teller.

I Must Be Cruel, Only To Be Kind.

Fight Valiantly To-day; And Yet I Do Thee Wrong To Mind Thee Of It, For Thou Art Framed Of The Firm Truth Of Valor.

Nature Hath Meal And Bran, Contempt And Grace.

For Thy Sweet Love Remember'd Such Wealth Brings That Then I Scorn To Change My State With Kings.

As Good Luck Would Have It, Comes In One Mistress Page, Gives Intelligence Of Ford's Approach, And In Her Invention, And Ford's Wife's Distraction, They Conveyed Me Into A Buck-basket.

The Cheek Is Apter Than The Tongue To Tell An Errand.

Alas, Our Frailty Is The Cause , Not We! For, Such As We Are Made Of, Such We Be.

Though Inclination Be As Sharp As Will, My Stronger Guilt Defeats My Strong Intent, And, Like A Man To Double Business Bound, I Stand In Pause Where I Shall First Begin, And Both Neglect.

Tear-falling Pity Dwells Not In This Eye.

O, My Offence Is Rank, It Smells To Heaven

Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent Made Glorious Summer By This Sun Of York; And All The Clouds That Lour'd Upon Our House In The Deep Bosom Of The Ocean Buried.

I Cannot Speak Your England.

Nice Customs Curtsy To Great Kings.

Lady, With Me, With Me Thy Fortune Lies.

And Then He Drew A Dial From His Poke, And Looking With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, 'it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See', Quoth He, 'how The World Wags: 'tis But An Hour Ago Since It Was Nine, And After One Hour More 'twill Be Eleven; And So From Hour To Hour We Ripe And Ripe, And Then From Hour To Hour We Rot And Rot.

Sigh No More, Ladies, Sigh No More, Men Were Deceivers Ever,- One Foot In Sea And One On Shore, To One Thing Constant Never.

The Deep Of Night Is Crept Upon Our Talk, And Nature Must Obey Necessity.

Oh God! That One Might Read The Book Of Fate, And See The Revolution Of The Times Make Mountains Level, And The Continent, Weary Of Solid Firmness, Melt Itself Into The Sea.

My Stronger Guilt Defeats My Strong Intent.

The Path Is Smooth That Leadeth On To Danger.

Most Dangerous Is That Temptation That Doth Goad Us On To Sin In Loving Virtue.

But Let The Frame Of Things Disjoint, Both The Worlds Suffer, Ere We Will Eat Our Meal In Fear, And Sleep In The Affliction Of These Terrible Dreams That Shake Us Nightly.

Let Witchcraft Join With Beauty, Lust With Both!

As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight To See His Active Child Do Deeds Of Youth, So I, Made Lame By Fortune's Dearest Spite, Take All My Comfort Of Thy Worth And Truth.

This England Never Did, Nor Never Shall, Lie At The Proud Foot Of A Conqueror.

It Easeth Some, Though None It Ever Cured, To Think Their Dolour Others Have Endured.

I Am Not Only Witty In Myself, But The Cause That Wit Is In Other Men.

Most Friendship Is Faining, Most Loving Mere Folly: Then, Heigh-ho, The Holly. This Life Is Most Jolly.

I Feel It Gone, Yet Know Not When It Left.

What Win I, If I Gain The Thing I Seek? A Dream, A Breath, A Froth Of Fleeting Joy. Who Buys A Minute's Mirth To Wail A Week? Or Sells Eternity To Get A Toy? For One Sweet Grape Who Will The Vine Destroy? Or What Fond Beggar, But To Touch The Crown, Would With The Sceptre Straight Be Strucken Down?

She's Good, Being Gone.

You Dull Ass Will Not Mend His Pace With Beating.

Love Is A Wonderful, Terrible Thing

In Sweet Music Is Such Art: Killing Care And Grief Of Heart Fall Asleep, Or Hearing, Die.

I Am Not Merry, But I Do Beguile The Thing I Am By Seeming Otherwise.

They Have Been At A Great Feast Of Languages, And Stolen The Scraps.

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

Marry, Sir, They Praise Me And Make An Ass Of Me. Now My Foes Tell Me Plainly I Am An Ass; So That By My Foes, Sir, I Profit In The Knowledge Of Myself, Any By My Friends I Am Abused; So That, Conclusions To Be As Kisses, If Your Four Negatives Make Your Two Affirmatives, Why Then, The Worse For My Friends, And The Better For My Foes.

That Truth Should Be Silent I Had Almost Forgot. (enobarbus)

Sometimes When We Are Labeled, When We Are Branded Our Brand Becomes Our Calling.

My Grief Lies All Within, And These External Manners Of Lament Are Merely Shadows To The Unseen Grief That Swells With Silence In The Tortured Soul.

I'll Go Find A Shadow, And Sigh Till He Come" (phebe)

Kindness Nobler Ever Than Revenge.

Thanks To Men Of Noble Minds, Is Honorable Meed.

O Prosperina, For The Flowers Now That, Frighted, Thou Let'st Fall From Dis's Wagon; Daffodils, That Come Before The Swallow Dares, And Take The Winds Of March With Beauty; Violets Dim, But Sweeter Than The Lids Of Juno's Eyes Or Cytherea's Breath; Pale Primroses, That Die Unmarried, Ere They Can Behold Bright Phoebus In His Strength--a Malady Most Incident To Maids; Bold Oxlips And The Crown Imperial; Lilies Of All Kinds, The Flower-de-luce Being One.

So Wise So Young, They Say, Do Never Live Long.

Men Have Marble, Women Waxen, Minds.

Though Authority Be A Stubborn Bear, Yet He Is Oft Let By The Nose With Gold.

Well, I Will Find You Twenty Lascivious Turtles Ere One Chaste Man.

Shall We Upon The Footing Of Our Land Send Fair-play Orders, And Make Compromise, Insinuation, Parley, And Base Truce, To Arms Invasive?

I Love You With So Much Of My Heart That None Is Left To Protest.

O All You Host Of Heaven! O Earth! What Else? And Shall I Couple Hell?

And, Looking On It With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, "it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See," Quoth He, "how The World Wags."

What I Have Done Is Yours; What I Have To Do Is Yours; Being Part In All I Have, Devoted Yours.

The Patient Must Minister To Himself

Fair, Kind, And True, Have Often Lived Alone.

Friendship Is Constant In All Other Things Save In The Office And Affairs Of Love. Therefore All Hearts In Love Use Their Own Tongues. Let Every Eye Negotiate For Itself, And Trust No Agent; For Beauty Is A Witch Against Whose Charms Faith Melteth Into Blood.

How Slow This Old Moon Wanes! She Lingers My Desires, Like To A Stepdame, Or A Dowager, Long Withering Out A Young Man's Revenue.

Full Of Wise Saws And Modern Instances.

The Means That Heaven Yields Must Be Embraced, And Not Neglected; Else, If Heaven Would, And We Will Not Heaven's Offer, We Refuse The Proffered Means Of Succor And Redress.

Condemn The Fault And Not The Actor Of It?

Measure For Measure

There Is A History In All Men's Lives.

Love's Best Habit Is A Soothing Tongue

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.

But When I Came, Alas, To Wive, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain, By Swaggering Could I Never Thrive, For The Rain It Raineth Every Day.

Some Innocents 'scape Not The Thunderbolt.

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd, It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest; It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes: 'tis Mightiest In The Mightiest: It Becomes The Throned Monarch Better Than His Crown; His Sceptre Shows The Force Of Temporal Power, The Attribute To Awe And Majesty, Wherein Doth Sit The Dread And Fear Of Kings; But Mercy Is Above This Sceptred Sway; It Is Enthroned In The Hearts Of Kings, It Is An Attribute To God Himself; And Earthly Power Doth Then Show Likest God's When Mercy Seasons Justice.

Not That I Loved Caesar Less, But That I Loved Rome More.

But Yet I'll Make Assurance Double Sure, And Take A Bond Of Fate: Thou Shalt Not Live.

Bow, Stubborn Knees, And, Heart With Strings Of Steel, Be Soft As Sinews Of The New-born Babe. All Many Be Well.

I Wonder Men Dare Trust Themselves With Men.

His Neigh Is Like The Bidding Of A Monarch, And His Countenance Enforces Homage. He Is Indeed A Horse.

But Men Are Men; The Best Sometimes Forget.

Who Has A Book Of All That Monarchs Do, He's More Secure To Keep It Shut Than Shown; For Vice Repeated Is Like The Wand'ring Wind, Blows Dust In Others' Eye, To Spread Itself; And Yet The End Of All Is Bought Thus Dear, The Breath Is Gone, And The Sore Eyes See Clear To Stop The Air Would Hurt Them.

Doubt Is A Thief That Often Makes Us Fear To Tread Where We Might Have Won.

Many A Good Hanging Prevents A Bad Marriage.

Thou Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Lov'd, Despis'd! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon.

How Sweet The Moonlight Sleeps Upon This Bank Here We Will Sit, And Let The Sounds Of Music Creep In Our Ears; Soft Stillness, And The Night Become The Touches Of Sweet Harmony

You Have Witchcraft In Your Lips, There Is More Eloquence In A Sugar Touch Of Them Than In The Tongues Of The French Council; And They Should Sooner Persuade Harry Of England Than A General Petition Of Monarchs.

They That Have Voice Of Lions And Act Of Hares,--are They Not Monsters?

Mechanic Slaves With Greasy Aprons, Rules, And Hammers, Shall Uplift Us To The View.

Why, Courage Then! What Cannot Be Avoided 'twere Childish Weakness To Lament Or Fear.

To Set A Gloss On Faint Deeds, Hollow Welcomes, Recanting Goodness, Sorry Ere 'tis Shown; But Where There Is True Friendship, There Needs None.

Violent Fires Soon Burn Out Themselves, Small Showers Last Long, But Sudden Storms Are Short; He Tires Betimes That Spurs Too Fast.

The World Is Not Thy Friend, Nor The World's Law. - Romeo

I Will Praise Any Man That Will Praise Me.

If I Had My Mouth, I Would Bite; If I Had My Liberty, I Would Do My Liking. In The Meantime, Let Me Be That I Am, And Seek Not Toalter Me.

I Am Indeed Not Her Fool, But Her Corrupter Of Words. (act Iii, Sc. I, 37-38)

Twelfth Night Important

If People Knew How Much I Hated Them, They'd Love Me For Holding It In.

My Meaning In Saying He Is A Good Man, Is To Have You Understand Me That He Is Sufficient.

She Marking Them Begins A Wailing Note And Sings Extemporally A Woeful Ditty How Love Makes Young Men Thrall And Old Men Dote How Love Is Wise In Folly, Foolish-witty Her Heavy Anthem Still Concludes In Woe, And Still The Choir Of Echoes Answer So.

The Trust I Have Is In Mine Innocence, And Therefore Am I Bold And Resolute.

Sir, He's A Good Dog, And A Fair Dog.

Twere To Consider Too Curiously, To Consider So.

Tis The Eye Of Childhood That Fears A Painted Devil.

If We Shadows Have Offended, Think But This, And All Is Mended, That You Have But Slumbered Here While These Visions Did Appear. And This Weak And Idle Theme, No More Yielding But A Dream, Gentles, Do Not Reprehend: If You Pardon, We Will Mend: And, As I Am An Honest Puck, If We Have Unearned Luck Now To 'scape The Serpent's Tongue, We Will Make Amends Ere Long; Else The Puck A Liar Call; So, Good Night Unto You All. Give Me Your Hands, If We Be Friends, And Robin Shall Restore Amends.

Good Wombs Have Borne Bad Sons." -- (miranda, I:2)

But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? It Is The East, And Juliet Is The Sun.

I'll Forbear; And Am Fallen Out With My More Headier Will To Take The Indisposed And Sickly Fit For The Sound Man.

The Common Curse Of Mankind, Folly And Ignorance, Be Thine In Great Revenue!

Desire Of Having Is The Sin Of Covetousness.

I See That The Fashion Wears Out More Apparel Than The Man.

We Do Pray For Mercy, And That Same Prayer Doth Teach Us All To Render The Deeds Of Mercy.

Time And The Hour Run Through The Roughest Day.

Time Management

The Breaking Of So Great A Thing Should Make A Greater Crack: The Round World Should Have Shook Lions Into Civil Streets, And Citizens To Their Dens.

The Cunning Livery Of Hell.

The Tyrant Custom, Most Grave Senators, Hath Made The Flinty And Steel Couch Of War My Thrice-driven Bed Of Down.

The Evil That Men Do Lives After Them; The Good Is Oft Interred With Their Bones.

Care For Us! True, Indeed! They Ne'er Cared For Us Yet: Suffer Us To Famish, And Their Storehouses Crammed With Grain; Make Edicts For Usury, To Support Usurers; Repeal Daily Any Wholesome Act Established Against The Rich, And Provide More Piercing Statutes Daily To Chain Up And Restrain The Poor. If The Wars Eat Us Not Up, They Will; And There's All The Love They Bear Us.

This Is His Uncle's Teaching, This Worcester, Malevolent To You In All Aspects, Which Makes Him Prune Himself And Bristle Up The Crest Of Youth Against Your Dignity.

O Wretched State! O Bosom Black As Death! O Limed Soul That, Struggling To Be Free, Art More Engaged! Help, Angels! Make Assay! Bow, Stubborn Knees! And, Heart With Strings Of Steel, Be Soft As Sinews Of The New-born Babe!

Wilt Thou Whip Thine Own Faults In Other Men?

I Have Seen The Day Of Wrong Through The Little Hole Of Discretion, And I Will Right Myself Like A Soldier.

I Know No Ways To Mince It In Love, But Directly To Say - I Love You

Wedding Anniversary

Some Say That Ever 'gainst The Season Comes Wherein Our Saviour's Birth Is Celebrated, The Bird Of Dawning Singeth All Night Long: And Then, They Say, No Spirit Can Walk Abroad; The Nights Are Wholesome; Then No Planets Strike, No Fairy Takes, Nor Wi

Put On The Dauntless Spirit Of Resolution.

The Quality Of Nothing Hath Not Such Need To Hide Itself

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.

Ten Kisses Short As One, One Long As Twenty.

Alas, Poor Yorick! I Knew Him, Horatio: A Fellow Of Infinite Jest, Of Most Excellent Fancy: He Hath Borne Me On His Back A Thousand Times; And Now, How Abhorred In My Imagination It Is! My Gorge Rims At It. Here Hung Those Lips That I Have Kissed I Know Not How Oft. Where Be Your Gibes Now? Your Gambols? Your Songs? Your Flashes Of Merriment, That Were Wont To Set The Table On A Roar? Not One Now, To Mock Your Own Grinning? Quite Chap-fallen?

But Till All Graces Be In One Woman, One Woman Shall Not Come In My Grace. Rich She Shall Be, That's Certain; Wise, Or I'll None; Virtuous, Or I'll Never Cheapen Her; Fair, Or I'll Never Look On Her; Mild, Or Come Not Near Me; Noble, Or Not I For An Angel; Of Good Discourse, And Excellent Musician And Her Hair Shall Be Of What Colour It Shall Please God.

I Have Set My Life Upon A Cast, And I Will Stand The Hazard Of The Die.

Thou Call'st Me Dog Before Thou Hadst A Cause, But Since I Am A Dog, Beware My Fangs.

Time Does Not Have The Same Appeal For Every One

Now The Time Is Come, That France Must Veil Her Lofty-plumed Crest, And Let Her Head Fall Into England's Lap.

Thou Hast Most Traitorously Corrupted The Youth Of The Realm In Erecting A Grammar School.

Eye Of Newt, And Toe Of Frog, Wool Of Bat, And Tongue Of Dog, Adder's Fork, And Blind-worm's Sting, Lizard's Leg, And Owlet's Wing, For A Charm Of Powerful Trouble, Like A Hell-broth Boil And Bubble.

Come, Let's Have One Other Gaudy Night. Call To Me All My Sad Captains. Fill Our Bowls Once More. Let's Mock The Midnight Bell.

So Many Miseries Have Craz'd My Voice, That My Woe-wearied Tongue Is Still And Mute.

Those That Do Teach Young Babes Do It With Gentle Means And Easy Tasks.

I Say There Is No Darkness But Ignorance.

The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing.

I Am Indeed, Sir, A Surgeon To Old Shoes; When They Are In Great Danger I Recover Them.

Use Every Man According To His Desert And Who Should 'scape Whipping? Use Them After Your Own Honor And Dignity, The Less They Deserve ... The More Merit In Your Bounty.

None Can Cure Their Harms By Wailing Them.

Swift As Shadow, Short As Any Dream

We All Are Men, In Our Own Natures Frail, And Capable Of Our Flesh; Few Are Angels.

The Fool Multitude, That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach.

What's The Newest Grief? Each Minute Tunes A New One.

Can We Outrun The Heavens?

Mine Eyes Are Full Of Tears, My Heart Of Grief.

In Limited Professions There's Boundless Theft.

There Is A Willow Grows Aslant A Brook, That Shows His Hoar Leaves In The Glassy Stream; There With Fantastic Garlands Did She Come Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, And Long Purples That Liberal Shepherds Give A Grosser Name, But Our Cold Maids Do Dead Men's Fingers Call Them: There, On The Pendent Boughs Her Coronet Weeds Clambering To Hang, An Envious Sliver Broke; When Down Her Weedy Trophies And Herself Fell In The Weeping Brook.

There Is An Old Poor Man,. . . . Oppress'd With Two Weak Evils, Age And Hunger.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounce It To You, Trippingly On The Tongue; But If You Mouth It, As Many Of Your Players Do, I Had As Lief The Town-crier Spoke My Lines.

Winter, Which, Being Full Of Care, Makes Summer's Welcome Thrice More Wish'd, More Rare.

Is He On His Horse? O Happy Horse, To Bear The Weight Of Antony!

Who Can Control His Fate?

Bassanio: Do All Men Kill All The Things They Do Not Love? Shylock: Hates Any Man The Thing He Would Not Kill? Bassanio: Every Offence Is Not A Hate At First.

On Pain Of Death, No Person Be So Bold.

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