Date: 1603
"Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain / If with too credent ear you list his songs, / Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open / To his unmastered importunity."
preview | full record— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)
Date: 1603
"O wretched state, O bosom black as death, / O limèd soul that, struggling to be free, / Art more engaged!"
preview | full record— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)
Date: 1603
"And let me wring your heart; for so I shall / If it be made of penetrable stuff, / If damnèd custom have not brassed it so / That it is proof and bulwark against sense."
preview | full record— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)
Date: 1603
"And that his soul may be as damned and black / As hell whereto it goes."
preview | full record— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)
Date: 1603
"Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul, / And there I see such black and grainèd spots / As will not leave their tinct. "
preview | full record— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)
Date: 1603
"So think thou wilt no second husband wed; / But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead."
preview | full record— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)
Date: 1603
"Remember thee? / Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat / In this distracted globe."
preview | full record— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)
Date: 1664
"The fancy, memory, and judgment are then extended (like so many limbs) upon the rack; all of them reaching with their utmost stress at nature; a thing so almost infinite and boundless, as can never fully be comprehended, but where the images of all things are always present."
preview | full record— Dryden, John (1631-1700)
Date: 1664
"I can only say in general, that the souls of other men shine out at little crannies; they understand some one thing, perhaps to admiration, while they are darkened on all the other parts: but your Lordship's soul is an entire globe of light, breaking out on every side; and if I have only discove...
preview | full record— Dryden, John (1631-1700)
Date: Jun 12, 1668; 1671
"'Tis so wild [Wildblood's heart], that the Lady who has it in her keeping, would be glad she were well rid on't: it does so flutter about the Cage. 'Tis a meer Bajazet; and if it be not let out the sooner, will beat out the brains against the Grates."
preview | full record— Dryden, John (1631-1700)