Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Stoop, boys. This gate
Instructs you how t' adore the heavens and bows you
To a morning's read more
Stoop, boys. This gate
Instructs you how t' adore the heavens and bows you
To a morning's holy office.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
read more
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
The miserable hath no other medicine but only hope
The miserable hath no other medicine but only hope
Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.
Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had read more
Poor deer, quoth he, thou makest a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.
