William Shakespeare

O how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!

O how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!

'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you,
my lord fool, out of read more

'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you,
my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower,
safety.

The golden age is before us, not behind us.

The golden age is before us, not behind us.

I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!

I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!

We are oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much proved, that with devotion's visage
And pious read more

We are oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much proved, that with devotion's visage
And pious action we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.