William Shakespeare

Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.

Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.

The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

How far that little candle throws its beams;
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

How far that little candle throws its beams;
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders, where it is.

Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders, where it is.

Lord, what fools these mortals be.

Lord, what fools these mortals be.