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| But if the cause be not good, the King himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and arms and heads chopped off in a battle shall join together at the latter day, and cry all, 'We died at such a place' - some swearing, some crying f | | Uncategorized | |
But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
Be his own carver and cut out his way,
To find out right with wrong, it may not be. | | Uncategorized | |
| But like of each thing that in season grows. | | Seasons | |
| But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit, For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy | | Love | |
| But love is blind, and lovers cannot see What petty follies they themselves commit | | Uncategorized | |
But now behold,
In the quick forge and working-house of thought. | | Uncategorized | |
| But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness from another man's eyes. | | Uncategorized | |
| But screw your courage to the sticking-place and we'll not fail. | | Courage | |
But since he died, and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style
I'll read, his for his love. | | Uncategorized | |
| But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun. | | Uncategorized | |
| But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she. | | Uncategorized | |
| But that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from who bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than to fly to others that we know not of? | | Uncategorized | |
| But then I sigh; and, with a piece of Scripture, Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: And thus I clothe my naked villany With odd old ends stol'n forth of holy writ; And seem a saint when most I play the devil | | Evil | |
| But they whose guilt within their bosoms lie Imagine every eye beholds their blame | | Uncategorized | |
But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. | | Uncategorized | |
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| But to my mind, though I am native here And to the manner born, it is a custom more honored in the breach than the observance | | Uncategorized | |
But when her lips were ready for his pay,
He winks, and turns his lips another way. | | Uncategorized | |
| But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered | | Uncategorized | |
| But when they seldom come, they wished for come. | | Wishes | |
