1963 ordspråk av William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
Who steals my purse, steals trash, but he that filches from me my good name robs me of that which not enriches him and makes me poor indeed.
|
Who wooed in haste and means to wed at leisure
|
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since riches point to misery and contempt?
|
Whose words all ears took captive.
|
Why does my blood thus muster to my heart, and dispossessing all my other parts of necessary fitness?
|
Why does my blood thus muster to my heart, Making both it unable for itself, And dispossessing all my other parts Of necessary fitness?
|
Why should a man whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
|
Why should honor outlive honestly?
|
Why so large a cost, having so short a lease, does thou upon your fading mansion spend?
|
Why then the worlds mine oyster, Which I with sword shall open.
|
Why then tonight let us assay our plot.
|
Why this is very midsummer madness.
|
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus.
|
Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me it [Denmark] is a prison.
|
Why, this hath not a finger's dignity.
|