William Shakespeare

Let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung.

Let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung.

Simply the thing that I am shall make me live.

Simply the thing that I am shall make me live.

'Tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
For daws to peck read more

'Tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
For daws to peck at.

For it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but read more

For it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.

They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.

They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.