Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That read more
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
I will be gone,
That pitiful rumor may report my flight
To consolate thine ear.
I will be gone,
That pitiful rumor may report my flight
To consolate thine ear.
You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same
abundance as your good fortunes are; and read more
You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same
abundance as your good fortunes are; and yet for aught I see,
they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve
with nothing.
Love all, trust a few. Do wrong to none.
Love all, trust a few. Do wrong to none.
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.
