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.

Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.--
This grave shall have a living monument.
An hour read more

Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.--
This grave shall have a living monument.
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then in patience our proceeding be.

Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent.

Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent.

And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony?
What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
Of read more

And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony?
What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?

He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.

He was indeed the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.