William Shakespeare

Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head,
The least a death read more

Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head,
The least a death to nature.

Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in read more

Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burnt. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.

That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

That in the captain's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. read more

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

And maidens call it--Love in idleness.

And maidens call it--Love in idleness.