William Shakespeare

There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these read more

There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none
Farewell. Buy food and get thyself in flesh.

Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.'
Flatter read more

Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.'
Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

I would have thee gone,
And yet no further than a wanton's bird,
Who lets it hop read more

I would have thee gone,
And yet no further than a wanton's bird,
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again.

I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark! -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. read more

I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark! -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
Those waters from me which I would have stopped;
read more

The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
Those waters from me which I would have stopped;
But I had not so much of man in me,
And all my mother came into mine eyes
And gave me up to tears.