William Shakespeare

I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not read more

I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.

The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, may in the sworn twelve have a thief or two guiltier than him read more

The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, may in the sworn twelve have a thief or two guiltier than him they try

Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

Lady, you know no rules of charity,
Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.