William Shakespeare

If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, read more

If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 1.

At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each read more

At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

She 's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won. -King Henry VI. Part read more

She 's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won. -King Henry VI. Part I. Act v. Sc. 3.

Why, all delights are vain, but that most vain
Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain:
As, read more

Why, all delights are vain, but that most vain
Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain:
As, painfully to pore upon a book,
To seek the light of truth, which truth the while
Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.

And wer't not madness then
To make the fox surveyor of the fold.

And wer't not madness then
To make the fox surveyor of the fold.