Shakespeare Studies; Papers Read Before the Literary Clinic

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Literary clinic, 1916 - 156 pages
 

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Page 132 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 70 - I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Page 139 - ... there's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will.
Page 86 - THOUGH love repine, and reason chafe, There came a voice without reply, — • " 'Tis man's perdition to be safe, When for the truth he ought to die.
Page 108 - These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume : the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite : Therefore love moderately ; long love doth so ; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Page 81 - em : Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes ; And, like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not.
Page 101 - Shall I believe That unsubstantial Death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour ? For fear of that I...
Page 83 - Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl ! — O ! you are men of stones ; Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so That heaven's vault should crack. — She's gone for ever. — I know when one is dead, and when one lives ; She's dead as earth.
Page 144 - Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war...
Page 76 - 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...

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