William Shakespeare

I have marked
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
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I have marked
A thousand blushing apparitions
To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
In angel whiteness beat away those blushes,
And in her eye there hath appeared a fire
To burn the errors that these princes hold
Against her maiden truth.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It read more

The quality of mercy is not strain'd; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

O my prophetic soul!
My uncle?

O my prophetic soul!
My uncle?

It needs not nor it boots thee not, proud queen,
Unless the adage must be verified,
That read more

It needs not nor it boots thee not, proud queen,
Unless the adage must be verified,
That beggars mounted run their horse to death.

'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.