Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Mine eyes
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor read more
Mine eyes
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart,
That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious
To have mistrusted her.
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your read more
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
Next, your son gone, and he most violent author
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly
In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts;
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France,
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
Wherein necessity, of matter beggared,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear.
With this there grows
In my most ill-compos'd affection such
A stanchless avarice that, were I King,
read more
With this there grows
In my most ill-compos'd affection such
A stanchless avarice that, were I King,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
Desire his jewels, and this other's house,
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more, that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in read more
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burnt. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.