William Shakespeare

I am sure care's an enemy to life.

I am sure care's an enemy to life.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
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Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks;
Arm it in rags, a pygmy's straw does pierce it.

When last the young Orlando parted from you,
He left a promise to return again
Within a read more

When last the young Orlando parted from you,
He left a promise to return again
Within a hour; and pacing through the forest,
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,
Lo, what befell!

Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth read more

Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the churchway paths to glide.

One draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. -Twelfth Night. Act read more

One draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.