William Shakespeare

The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
read more

The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past.

Man delights not me--nor woman neither, though, by your smiling
you seem to say so.

Man delights not me--nor woman neither, though, by your smiling
you seem to say so.

'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.

'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! -King Henry VI. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! -King Henry VI. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

And, being fed by us, you used us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
Useth read more

And, being fed by us, you used us so
As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird,
Useth the sparrow--did oppress our nest; . . .