Thoughts and After-thoughts

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Cassell, 1913 - 315 pages

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Page 250 - This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that loved him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer...
Page 141 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced 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.
Page 259 - A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. Mark but my fall and that that ruin'd me. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels; how can man then, The image of his Maker, hope to win...
Page 117 - My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts; but why this should have caused the atrophy of that part of the brain alone, on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot conceive.
Page 141 - 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 : and blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.
Page 138 - Ay, truly ; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness : this was sometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof.
Page 255 - Well, well, Master Kingston," quoth he, "I see the matter against me how it is framed; but if I had served God as diligently as I have done the king, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs.
Page 145 - How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! 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.
Page 142 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please ; give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, aye, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Page 196 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on, how then ? Can honour set to a leg ? No. Or an arm ? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour ? What is that honour ? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it ? He that died o

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