William Shakespeare

That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So read more

That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So excellent a king, that was to this
Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth,
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on, and yet within a month--
Let me not think on't; frailty, thy name is woman--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father's body
Like Niobe, all tears, why she, even she--
O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourned longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.

Young in limbs, in judgment old. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Young in limbs, in judgment old. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.

It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.

Make the coming hour o'erflow with joy, And pleasure drown the brim. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. read more

Make the coming hour o'erflow with joy, And pleasure drown the brim. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 4.

O villain, thou hast stol'n both mine office and my name!
The one ne'er got me credit, the other read more

O villain, thou hast stol'n both mine office and my name!
The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.