Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied read more
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To bear her secrets so bewrayed.
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To bear her secrets so bewrayed.
A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.
A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.
Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
Our praises are our wages.
Our praises are our wages.
