William Shakespeare

The king is come. Deal mildly with his youth;
For young hot colts, being raged, do rage the more.

The king is come. Deal mildly with his youth;
For young hot colts, being raged, do rage the more.

Men at some time are masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not is our stars,
read more

Men at some time are masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not is our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a
penny; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; read more

There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a
penny; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make
it felony to drink small beer.

To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot read more

To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are read more

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.