William Shakespeare

These violent delights have violent ends.

These violent delights have violent ends.

He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his
own trumpet, his own chronicle; and read more

He that is proud eats up himself. Pride is his own glass, his
own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but
in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.

Then my dial goes not true; I look this lark for a bunting.

Then my dial goes not true; I look this lark for a bunting.

Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learned, like Sir
Proteus, to wreathe your arms like a malcontent, read more

Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learned, like Sir
Proteus, to wreathe your arms like a malcontent, to relish a
love-song like a robin-redbreast, to walk alone like one that had
the pestilence, to sigh like a schoolboy that had lost his A B C,
to weep like a young wench that had buried her grandam, to fast
like one that takes diet, to watch like one that fears robbing,
to speak puling like a beggar at Hallowmas.

My cake is dough. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 1.

My cake is dough. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 1.