Measure for measure. Merry wives of Windsor. Winter's tale

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Page 32 - And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Page 34 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world...
Page 24 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet ; For every pelting, petty officer, Would use his heaven for thunder ; nothing but thunder.
Page 195 - O, Proserpina, 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...
Page 48 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain. seal'd in vain.
Page 72 - O my dread lord! I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think I can be undiscernible, When I perceive your grace, like power divine, Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good prince, No longer session hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession: Immediate sentence then and sequent death Is all the grace I beg.
Page 14 - We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, • And let it keep one shape till custom make it Their perch and not their terror.
Page 24 - Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Page 31 - Be absolute for death; either death, or life, Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life,— If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep...
Page 3 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely...

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