O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!
If so, be patient, sister.
Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb;
And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub
To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size;
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
That carries no impression like the dam.
'One fair daughter, and no more,
The which he loved passing well.
My way of life
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf,
And that which should accompany old age,
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not.
My friends were poor but honest.
Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
Come, I cannot
cog, and say thou art this and that, like a many of these
lisping hawthorn-buds that come like women in men's
apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple time; I
cannot; but I love thee, none but thee; and thou deserv'st it.
Talkers are no good doers.
Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?
He took the bride about the neck And kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack That at the parting all the church did echo.
Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool.
Property was thus appall'd,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature's double name
Neither two nor one was call'd.
Let us die in honour: once more back again;
And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
Let him go hence and, with his cap in hand
Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door
Whilst by a slave, no gender than my dog,
His fairest daughter is contaminated.
An angel or, if not, An earthly paragon.
Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire.
What, is Lavinia then become so loose,
Or Bassianus so degenerate,
That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd
Without controlment, justice, or revenge?
First, her father slain;
Next, Your son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
In hugger-mugger to inter him; Poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair-judgment,
Without the which we are Pictures or mere beasts;
Last, and as such containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France;
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
Feeds on his wonder, keep, himself in clouds,
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick Our person to arraign
In ear and ear.
And in this state she 'gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on cursies straight;
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
I,
Beyond all limit of what else i' th' world,
Do love, prize, honour you.
A little water clears us of this deed.
Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such
offenders, and let Time try.
O, then began the tempest to my soul!
O, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth
The greater cantle of the world is lost
With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away
Kingdoms and provinces.
The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;
Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;
Not soon provok'd, nor being provok'd soon calm'd;
His heart and hand both open and both free;
For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows,
Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath;
Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
To tender objects, but he in heat of action
Is more vindicative than jealous love.
Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer
love.
Condemn the fault and the actor of it.
Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.
These are but wild and whirling words.
Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow
enough, and one that loves quails, but he has not so much brain
as ear-wax; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his
brother, the bull, the primitive statue and oblique memorial of
cuckolds, a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his
brother's leg-to what form but that he is, should wit larded with
malice, and malice forced with wit, turn him to?
Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
Sweet men, come to him.
If chance will have me King, why, chance may
crown me
Without my stir.
Now show yourselves men; 'tis for liberty.
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
Give you a reason on compulsion If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.
I say unto you, what he hath done famously he did it
to that end; though soft-conscienc'd men can be content to say it
was for his country, he did it to please his mother and to be
partly proud, which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.
Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up
Issue to me; that the contending kingdoms
Of France and England, whose very shores look pale
With envy of each other's happiness,
May cease their hatred; and this dear conjunction
Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord
In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.
If either of you both love Katherina,
Because I know you well and love you well,
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
Thus it stands:
Her elder sister is so curst and shrewd
That, till the father rid his hands of her,
Master, your love must live a maid at home;
And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
Because she will not be annoy'd with suitors.
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy.
As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
The first thing we do, lets kill the lawyers. Henry Iv
Great eaters and great sleepers are incapable of anything else that is great.
A wretched soul bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.
Soldier, you must come to the King.
Lets teach ourselves that honourable stop, Not to outsport discretion.
A plague of sighing and grief!
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories