William Shakespeare

Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to read more

Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt.

The lady doth protest too much, me thinks

The lady doth protest too much, me thinks

O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
read more

O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face.

You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant!
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
Is true read more

You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant!
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
Is true as steel.

Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice
Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.

Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice
Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.