Maxioms by William Shakespeare
There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murther in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds read more
There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murther in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell:.
'Tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
For daws to peck read more
'Tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
For daws to peck at.
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty,
And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged,
read more
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty,
And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged,
For then she never looks upon her lure.
He who has never hoped can never despair.
He who has never hoped can never despair.
Leave her to Heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting read more
Leave her to Heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her.
