William Shakespeare

Did he so often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer read more

Did he so often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer France, his true inheritance?

How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign read more

How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign of bliss and joy! -King Henry VI. Part III. Act i. Sc. 2.

Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a
goose-pen, no matter.

Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a
goose-pen, no matter.

The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
read more

The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past.

Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. read more

Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.