Good morning to the day: and next, my gold! - / Open the shrine that I may see my saint.
Have you a stool there to be melancholy upon?
Have you seen but a bright lily grow, / Before rude hands have touched it? / Have you marked but the fall o' the snow / Before the soil hath smutched it? . . . O so white! O so soft! O so sweet is she!
He that is taught only by himself has a fool for a master.
He threatens many that hath injured one.
I do hold it, and will affirm it before any prince in Europe, to be the most sovereign and precious weed that ever the earth rendered to the use of man.
I do honor the very flea of his dog
I have a humour, / I would not willingly be gulled.
I have been at my book, and am now past the craggy paths of study, and come to the flowery plains of honour and reputation.
I have betrayed myself with my own tongue; The case is altered
I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakespeare that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, `Would he had blotted a thousand.'
Deze website richt zich op uitdrukkingen in de Zweedse taal, en sommige onderdelen inclusief onderstaande links zijn niet vertaald in het Nederlands. Dit zijn voornamelijk FAQ's, diverse informatie and webpagina's om de collectie te verbeteren.
Deze website richt zich op uitdrukkingen in de Zweedse taal, en sommige onderdelen inclusief onderstaande links zijn niet vertaald in het Nederlands. Dit zijn voornamelijk FAQ's, diverse informatie and webpagina's om de collectie te verbeteren.