William Shakespeare

She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter:
I say she never did invent this letter;
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She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter:
I say she never did invent this letter;
This is a man's invention and his hand.

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts read more

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.

It is a pretty mocking of the life.

It is a pretty mocking of the life.

And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house
And revel it as bravely read more

And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats and caps and golden rings,
With ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things;
With scarfs and fans and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.

The selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

The selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.