William Shakespeare

Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence--
read more

Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence--
Some to kill canters in the musk-rose buds,
Some war with reremice for their leathren wings,
To make my small elves coats, and some keep back
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots and wonders
At our quaint spirits.

My cake is dough, but I'll in among the rest,
Out of hope of all but my share of read more

My cake is dough, but I'll in among the rest,
Out of hope of all but my share of the feast.

But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in read more

But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

O I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part, sir,
of myself, and what remains is read more

O I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part, sir,
of myself, and what remains is bestial.

The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds the appetite.

The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds the appetite.