accent action affection Anecdote arms Aunt Betty beauty better black crows blessing blood body breath Cæsar called Catharine cause character Cicero dear death delight Demosthenes diphthongal divine earth elocution eternal evil eyes Fairplay father fear feel fire flowers fool gentleman give glory hand happy hath head hear heart heaven honor hope human knowledge labor language larynx liberty light live look Lord madam Manlius means mind Miss Carlton nature never o'er object orator passions person phrenology pleasure Pompey President principles Proverbs reason replied Rome sense smile soul sound speak spirit stop thief sweet tears tell tempest tence thee thing thou thought tion tongue triphthongal true truth Twas Varieties virtue vocal voice vowel Weatherbox whole wise words youth
307 psl. - The floating Clouds their state shall lend To her ; for her the willow bend ; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form By silent sympathy.
190 psl. - I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you : Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! 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...
283 psl. - That from the inmost darkness of the place Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. Here is continual worship. Nature, here, In the tranquillity that thou dost love, Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly around, From perch to perch, the solitary bird, Passes ; and yon clear spring, that midst its herbs Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left Thyself...
184 psl. - And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now cull out a holiday ? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude.
286 psl. - True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for it; but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way; but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion.
184 psl. - I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly ; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains ! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts ! lago.
258 psl. - The brows of men, by the despairing light, Wore an unearthly aspect, as, by fits, The flashes fell upon them. Some lay down, And hid their eyes, and wept; and some did rest Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled; And others hurried to and fro, and fed Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up, With mad disquietude, on the dull sky, The pall of a past world; and then again With curses, cast them down upon the dust, And gnashed their teeth, and howled.
126 psl. - Hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before.
261 psl. - Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause; and be silent that you may hear : believe me for mine honour ; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe : censure me in your wisdom ; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.