Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Still harping on my daughter.
Still harping on my daughter.
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat
Of habit's devil.
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat
Of habit's devil.
You undergo too strict a paradox,
Striving to make an ugly deed look fair.
You undergo too strict a paradox,
Striving to make an ugly deed look fair.
What, man! more water glideth by the mill
That wots the miller of; and easy it is
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What, man! more water glideth by the mill
That wots the miller of; and easy it is
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know:
Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother,
Better then he have worn Vulcan's badge.
Wherefore are these things hid? -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
Wherefore are these things hid? -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
