William Shakespeare

Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth read more

Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the churchway paths to glide.

Charm ache with air, and agony with words. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

Charm ache with air, and agony with words. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

(Pistol:) And tidings do I bring and lucky joys
And golden times and happy news of price.
read more

(Pistol:) And tidings do I bring and lucky joys
And golden times and happy news of price.
(Falstaff:) I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this
world.

We are oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much proved, that with devotion's visage
And pious read more

We are oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much proved, that with devotion's visage
And pious action we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.

I would fain die a dry death. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

I would fain die a dry death. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.