William Shakespeare

Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. read more

Blow, blow, thou winter wind! Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate read more

But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire.

As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle--and is not a
buff jerkin in a most read more

As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle--and is not a
buff jerkin in a most sweet robe of durance?

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. read more

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.

It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.