Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his read more
Like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What read more
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!
O my prophetic soul!
My uncle?
O my prophetic soul!
My uncle?
Besides, you know
Prosperity's the very bond of love,
Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
read more
Besides, you know
Prosperity's the very bond of love,
Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
Affliction alters.
