William Shakespeare

Rob me the exchequer. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Rob me the exchequer. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Berowne they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent read more

Berowne they call him; but a merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.

A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

My dear dear lord,
The purest treasure mortal times afford
Is spotless reputation. That away,
read more

My dear dear lord,
The purest treasure mortal times afford
Is spotless reputation. That away,
Man are but gilded loam or painted clay.

Oh, what a bitter thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.

Oh, what a bitter thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.