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O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have
provided that I shall have much help from you; how had you
been my friends else? (I,ii)
|
Isaac Asimov: The Gods Themselves
|
|
Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
(III,v)
|
George Bagby: In Cold Blood
Armstrong Livingston: In Cold Blood
Truman Capote: In Cold Blood
Aaron Marc Stein: In Cold Blood
Ann M. Algeo: In Cold Blood
David Guest: In Cold Blood
|
|
You fools of fortune,
trencher-friends, time's flies. (III,vi)
|
William Trevor: Fools of Fortune
|
|
We have seen better days. (IV,ii)
|
Reynolds Price: Better Days
Richard Dresser: Better Days
Chris B. Troste: Till Better Days
|
 ...the moon's an
arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun. (IV,iii)
|
Vladimir Nabokov: Pale Fire
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