William Shakespeare

'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester,
'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.'
And since, methinks, read more

'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester,
'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.'
And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet flow'rs are slow and weeds make haste.

For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
Or as read more

For, as a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
Or as the heresies that men do leave
Are hated most of those they did deceive,
So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
Of all be hated, but the most of me!

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.

This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators save only he
Did that they read more

This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators save only he
Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He, only in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.