William Shakespeare

Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest read more

Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest thought.

There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature of the times deceased,
The which read more

There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature of the times deceased,
The which observed, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, which in their seeds
And weak beginnings lie intreasured.

Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?

Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs?

When workmen strive to do better than well,
They do confound their skill in covetousness,
And oftentimes read more

When workmen strive to do better than well,
They do confound their skill in covetousness,
And oftentimes excusing of a fault
Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse,
As patches set upon a little breach
Discredit more in hiding of the fault
Than did the fault before it was so patched.

Some book there is that she desires to see.
Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.
read more

Some book there is that she desires to see.
Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.
But thou art deeper read and better skilled:
Come and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.