William Shakespeare

The web of life is of mingled yarn, good and ill together.

The web of life is of mingled yarn, good and ill together.

Let a man be but in earnest in praying against a temptation as
the tempter is in pressing it, read more

Let a man be but in earnest in praying against a temptation as
the tempter is in pressing it, and he needs not proceed by a
surer measure.

Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with read more

Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine,
To mask their brows and hide their infamy;
But I alone, alone must sit and pine,
Seasoning the earth with show'rs of silver brine,
Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans,
Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans.

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
read more

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster; but
I'll take my oath on read more

I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster; but
I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me he
shall never make me such a fool.