William Shakespeare

In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. read more

In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.

Her very silence, and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her.

Her very silence, and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her.

We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vie read more

I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vie whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

What, man, defy the devil? Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.

What, man, defy the devil? Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.