William Shakespeare

So sweetly she bade me adieu,
I thought that she bade me return.

So sweetly she bade me adieu,
I thought that she bade me return.

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a read more

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home; He was perfumed like a milliner, And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose and took 't away again. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,— A stage, where every man must play a part; And mine read more

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,— A stage, where every man must play a part; And mine a sad one. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, read more

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet.

'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.

'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.