Maxioms by William Shakespeare
Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to read more
Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt.
I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
I am sure care 's an enemy to life. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
Will fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
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Will fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
She either gives a stomach and no food--
Such are the poor, in health--or else a feast
And takes away the stomach-- such are the rich,
That have abundance, and enjoy it not.
The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds read more
The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
