William Shakespeare

There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these read more

There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none
Farewell. Buy food and get thyself in flesh.

This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. -King John. Act v. Sc. read more

This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 1.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. -The Comedy of Errors. Act ii. Sc. 1.

I think the King is but a man as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to read more

I think the King is but a man as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to me.

So cowards fight when they can fly no further;
So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
read more

So cowards fight when they can fly no further;
So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.