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Characters of Shakespeare's Plays: & Lectures on the English Poets
Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2015
admirable affections answer appear beauty become better breath called character comes common critic death doth equal eyes face fair fall fancy fear feeling fire force fortune friends genius give given grace hand hath head hear heart heaven hope human idea imagination interest keep kind king learning leave less light lines live look lord lost manner matter means meet mind moral nature never night object once passages passion perhaps person piece play poet poetry reason rich scene seems sense sentiment Shakspeare soul speak spirit stage stand strange striking style sweet tell thee things thou thought tion tragedy true truth turn unto whole writers young
Side 142 - Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Side 71 - 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 unus'd.
Side 71 - Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal, and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell.
Side 102 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, — often the surfeit of our own behaviour, — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars...
Side 82 - Treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Side xviii - Dis's waggon! 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...
Side 110 - Lear. Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less ; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Side 208 - 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...