Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
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Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Whose weakness married to thy stronger state
Makes with me thy strength to communicate.
If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;
Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion
Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion.
I am not merry; but I do beguile
The thing I am by seeming otherwise.
I am not merry; but I do beguile
The thing I am by seeming otherwise.
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
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There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.
Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes, and being royal,
Took her own way.
Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes, and being royal,
Took her own way.
Aggravate your choler. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Aggravate your choler. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 4.
