William Shakespeare

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

Confess yourself to heaven,
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
And do not spread the read more

Confess yourself to heaven,
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
And do not spread the compost on the weeds
To make them ranker.

Brevity is the soul of wit.

Brevity is the soul of wit.

I do beseech you--
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess
(As I confess it is read more

I do beseech you--
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess
(As I confess it is my nature's plague
To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not), that your wisdom yet
From one that so imperfectly conjects
Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.

Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.