William Shakespeare

Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only
Which your disease requires.

Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only
Which your disease requires.

I have offended reputation,
A most unnoble swerving.

I have offended reputation,
A most unnoble swerving.

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

There's something in't
More than my father's skill, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his read more

There's something in't
More than my father's skill, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his good receipt
Shall for my legacy be sanctified
By th' luckiest stars in heaven; and would your honor
But give me leave to thy success, I'd venture
The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure
By such a day and hour.

It needs not nor it boots thee not, proud queen,
Unless the adage must be verified,
That read more

It needs not nor it boots thee not, proud queen,
Unless the adage must be verified,
That beggars mounted run their horse to death.