William Shakespeare

Confess yourself to heaven,
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
And do not spread the read more

Confess yourself to heaven,
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
And do not spread the compost on the weeds
To make them ranker.

Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again.

Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again.

The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 3.

The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 3.

Give thy thoughts no tongue.

Give thy thoughts no tongue.

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And read more

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty;
Who doth the world so gloriously behold
That cedar tops and hills seem burnished gold.