The ruling passions

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Página 388 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Página 95 - There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Página 180 - A man with great talents, but void of discretion, is like Polyphemus in the fable, strong and blind, endued with an irresistible force which for want of sight is of no use to him. Though a man has all other perfections, and wants...
Página 180 - There are many more shining qualities in the mind of man, but there is none so useful as discretion ; it is this indeed which gives a value to all the rest, which sets them at work in their proper times and places, and turns them to the advantage of the person who is possessed of them.
Página 331 - I know she's his ; he has a tongue will tame Tempests, and make the wild rocks wanton. Come what can come, The worst is death ; I will not leave the kingdom...
Página 280 - I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, And like a Sinon take another Troy. I can add colours to the cameleon, Change shapes with Proteus, for advantages, And set the murderous Machiavel to school '. Can I do this, and cannot get a crown ? Tut ! were it further off, I'll pluck it down '. [Exit.
Página 314 - Tut, man ! one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessened by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning ; One desperate grief cures with another's languish : Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.
Página 357 - On Lough Neagh's bank as the fisherman strays, When the clear, cold eve's declining, He sees the round towers of other days, In the wave beneath him shining! Thus shall memory often, in dreams sublime, Catch a glimpse of the days that are over, Thus, sighing, look through the waves of time For the long-faded glories they cover!
Página 131 - But unto us she hath a spell beyond Her name in story, and her long array Of mighty shadows...

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