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Achilles Ajax alas ancient appears arms arrows art thou Atridæ aught bear behold bring called carry cause child dead death deeds didst disease dost dreadful evil eyes fall father fear foes foot friends give Gods gone Greeks hand hast thou hateful hath hear heard heaven honour hope Jove land least leave lest light live longer look mankind matter means mother murder Musgrave naturally never night observes once Orestes pain passage Philoctetes possessed present race reason sail sayest sense speak spirit stranger suffer sure taken tell Teucer thee thine thing thou art thou hast thou wilt thought thyself tongue translates trouble Troy turn Ulysses unhappy utter whither whole wilt thou wish woes words wretched
116. oldal - 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...
21. oldal - There's nothing in this world can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
152. oldal - Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
32. oldal - The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre, Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
50. oldal - And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy: The bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe: Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead: Force should be right; or, rather, right and wrong, (Between whose endless jar justice resides,) Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
202. oldal - Merciful heaven! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
127. oldal - There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not.
57. oldal - Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; There, swan-like, let me sing and die: A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine— Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!