William Shakespeare

My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered,
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My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered,
And then all this thou seest is but a clod
And module of confounded royalty.

If you can't get rid of the skeleton in your closet, you'd best
teach it to dance.

If you can't get rid of the skeleton in your closet, you'd best
teach it to dance.

What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully
my mother looks, and my father read more

What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully
my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
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I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of fraity sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.

Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.
Sorrow so royally read more

Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.
Sorrow so royally in you appears
That I will deeply put the fashion on
And wear it in my heart.