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Pàgina 92 - Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, And could of men distinguish, her election Hath seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing; A man that fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks...
Pàgina 75 - Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past. That youth and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven.
Pàgina 111 - I do not think so ; since he went into France, I have been in continual practice ; I shall win at the odds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here about my heart; but it is no matter.
Pàgina 199 - Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace : but there is, sir, an eyrie of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question and are most tyrannically clapped for't : these are now the fashion, and so berattle the common stages — so they call them — that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.
Pàgina 104 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unused.
Pàgina 28 - Yes, trust them not: for there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that with his tiger's heart, wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Pàgina 137 - O that Ben Jonson is a pestilent fellow ; he brought up Horace, giving the poets a pill ; but our fellow Shakespeare hath given him a purge, that made him bewray his credit.
Pàgina 106 - Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will — Hor.: That is most certain.
Pàgina 83 - Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit...