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Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; Amaze the welkin with your broken staves! - William Shakespeare Food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better: tush, man, mortal men, mortal men. - William Shakespeare He which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made. - William Shakespeare Horribly stuffed with epithets of war. - William Shakespeare I drew this gallant head of war, And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, To outlook conquest and to win renown Even in the jaws of danger and of death. - William Shakespeare Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man. - William Shakespeare Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath, That they may crush down with heavy fall The usurping helmets of our adversaries. - William Shakespeare Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; then what should war be? - William Shakespeare Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, Numb'ring our Ave Marias with our beads? Or shall we on the helmets of our foes Tell our devotion with revengeful arms. - William Shakespeare Shall we upon the footing of our land Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce, To arms invasive? - William Shakespeare Tell me, he that knows, * * * * * Why such daily cast of brazen cannon, And foreign mart for implements of war: Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task Does not divide the Sunday from the week: What might be toward, that this sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-laborer with the day; Who is't that can inform me? - William Shakespeare The armorers, accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation. - William Shakespeare The fire-eyed maid of smoky war All hot and bleeding will we offer them. - William Shakespeare The nimble gunner With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, And down goes all before them. - William Shakespeare There are few die well that die in a battle. - William Shakespeare Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we march'd on without impediment. - William Shakespeare To my shame, I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough, and continent, To hide the slain. - William Shakespeare War 'twixt you twain would be as if the world should cleave, and that slain men should solder up the rift. - William Shakespeare Your honor call you hence; Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly, And all the gods go with you. Upon your sword Sit laurel victory, and smooth success Be strewed before your feet! - William Shakespeare, Anthony and Cleopatra (Cleopatra at I, iii) And all the gods go with you! I upon your sword Sit laurel victory; and smooth success Be strew'd before your feet. - William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra No blame to be to you, sir, for all was lost, But that the heavens fought. - William Shakespeare, Cymbeline (Posthumus at V, iii) Give me the cups, And let the kettle to the trumpet speak, The trumpet to the cannoneer without, The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth, 'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.' - William Shakespeare, Hamlet Prince of Denmark (Claudius, King of Denmark at V, ii) Blood and destruction shall be so in use And dreadful objects so familiar That mothers shall but smile when they behold Their infants quartered with the hands of war, All pity choked with custom of fell deeds; And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war, That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial. - William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (Antony at III, i) And telling me the sovereignest thing on earth Was parmacity for an inward bruise, And that it was great pity, so it was, This villainous saltpetre should be digged Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed So cowardly, and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Fourth, Part I (Hotspur at I, iii) We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns, And pass them current too. Gods me, my horse! - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Fourth, Part I (Hotspur at II, iii) Displaying page 20 of 25 for this topic: << Prev Next >> 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 [20] 21 22 23 24 25
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