I am not a day of season, For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail In me at once.

I have said my prayers, and devil Envy say amen.

sweet as spring-time flowers

He words me, girls, he words me

Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat:

There’s millions

But kings and mightiest potentates must die, For that’s the end of human misery.

And formally, according to our law, Depose him

there is no king

Say, what abridgment have you for this evening?

Tomorrow to th’ field.

A speaker is but a prater

And you are come in very happy time To bear my greeting to the senators

O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the worst best.

New comic! Let's take a look at Henry IV's deathbed advice to his son, Prince Hal, which is in NO WAY relevant to anything going on right now. goodticklebrain.com/home/2026/3/... #shakespeare #henryiv #henryivpart2

O how full of briers is this working-day world!

So hated

Peace, doting wizard, peace!

I say they nourish’d disobedience, fed The ruin of the state.

On my life, my lord, a bubble.

An evil soul producing holy witness Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, A goodly apple rotten at the heart.

Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!

And how doth my good cousin Silence?

Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes.

Chaos is come again.

No port is free, no place That guard and most unusual vigilance Does not attend my taking.

Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun’s hot beams

Bacon-fed knaves! They hate us youth.

My affairs Do even drag me homeward

Hark, the game is rous’d!⁠—

it is very hot.

Die, perish!

Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

The King is mad

Provide me soldiers, lords, Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.

"Yet their own authors faithfully affirm That the land Salique is in Germany..." @shakespeare.lol

How dost thou, chuck?

This is a dreadful sentence.

What is the matter?

Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askaunce

Thou cold sciatica, Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt As lamely as their manners!

Bleed, bleed, poor country!

You have no employment for me?

No slander; they steal hearts

he is not guilty.

You are full of pretty answers

Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear themselves without the verse, and therefore stood lamely in the verse.

Come, sir, come, sir, come, sir; foh, sir, why, you bald-pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave’s visage, with a pox to you!

leave us to our free election.

HORATIO There’s no offense, my lord. HAMLET Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, And much offense too.