From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world.
You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,--
A stage, where every man must play a part;
And mine a sad one.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it is a point of cunning to borrow the name of the world; as to say, "The world says," or "There is a speech abroad."
"Antiquitas sæculi juventus mundi." These times are the ancient times, when the world is ancient, and not those which we account ancient ordine retrogrado, by a computation backward from ourselves.
The world's a bubble, and the life of man
Less than a span.
The world's a stage on which all parts are played.
The world knows only two,--that's Rome and I.
And though mine arm should conquer twenty worlds,
There's a lean fellow beats all conquerors.
If the world will be gulled, let it be gulled.
For "ignorance is the mother of devotion," as all the world knows.
The world's a theatre, the earth a stage
Which God and Nature do with actors fill.
Thou little thinkest what a little foolery governs the world.
Syllables govern the world.
Let the world slide.
O great corrector of enormous times,
Shaker of o'er-rank states, thou grand decider
Of dusty and old titles, that healest with blood
The earth when it is sick, and curest the world
O' the pleurisy of people!
Be wisely worldly, be not worldly wise.
Chase brave employment with a naked sword
Throughout the world.
Man is one world, and hath
Another to attend him.
Do well and right, and let the world sink.
You will find angling to be like the virtue of humility, which has a calmness of spirit and a world of other blessings attending upon it.
Times before you, when even living men were antiquities,--when the living might exceed the dead, and to depart this world could not be properly said to go unto the greater number.
The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made.
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become
As they draw near to their eternal home:
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe.