William Shakespeare

Were't not affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honored love,
I rather read more

Were't not affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honored love,
I rather would entreat thy company
To see the wonders of the world abroad
Than, living dully sluggardized at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.

So full of artless jealousy is guilt
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

So full of artless jealousy is guilt
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Exceedingly well read. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Exceedingly well read. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.