William Shakespeare

Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind.
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Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind.
What error leads must error.

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand read more

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 1.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 1.

(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
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(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
Who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.

Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so;
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.

Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so;
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.