William Shakespeare

It is a wise father that knows his own child.

It is a wise father that knows his own child.

She hath made me four and twenty nosegays for the
shearers--three-man songmen all, and very good ones; but they read more

She hath made me four and twenty nosegays for the
shearers--three-man songmen all, and very good ones; but they are
most of them means and bases, but one puritan amongst them, and
he sings psalms to hornpipes.

Surely, sir,
There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
For, being not propped by read more

Surely, sir,
There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
For, being not propped by ancestry, whose grace
Chalks successors their way, nor called upon
For high feats done to th' crown, neither allied
To eminent assistants, but spiderlike
Out of his self-drawing web, 'a gives us note,
The force of his own merit makes his way,
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
A place next to the king.

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
read more

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him;
Yet nor the lays of birds, not the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odor and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.

It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.