Maxioms by Christopher Marlowe
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet read more
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.--
Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies!--
It is a comfort to the miserable to have comrades in misfortune,
but it is a poor comfort after read more
It is a comfort to the miserable to have comrades in misfortune,
but it is a poor comfort after all.