William Shakespeare

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will read more

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins
That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
As violently as hasty powder fired
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than their years.

Tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than their years.

I would the gods had made thee poetical. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I would the gods had made thee poetical. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

O God! methinks it were a happy life
To be no better than a homely swain;
To read more

O God! methinks it were a happy life
To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials, quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes, how they run--
How many makes the hour full complete,
How many hours brings about the day,
How many days will finish up the year,
How many years a mortal man may live;
When this is known, then to divide the times--
So many hours must I tend my flock,
So many hours must I take my rest,
So many hours must I contemplate,
So many hours must I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young,
So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean,
So many months ere I shall shear the fleece.
So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years,
Passed over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this!

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, read more

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.