Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, read more
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite
jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne read more
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite
jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a
thousand times. And now how abhorred in my imagination it is!
That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
That unlettered small-knowing soul. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.
Why should a man whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? -The Merchant of Venice. read more
Why should a man whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.
In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been well, that would have made me sick,
read more
In poison there is physic; and these news,
Having been well, that would have made me sick,
Being sick, have in some measure made me well.
