William Shakespeare

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.

The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool. All's obliquy;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures
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The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool. All's obliquy;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures
But direct villainy.

For 'tis the sport to have the enginer
Hoist with his own petar, and 't shall go hard
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For 'tis the sport to have the enginer
Hoist with his own petar, and 't shall go hard
But I will delve one yard below their mines
And blow them at the moon.

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

We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves
And spend our flatteries to drink those men
Upon whose read more

We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves
And spend our flatteries to drink those men
Upon whose age we void it up again
With poisonous spite and envy.