William Shakespeare

Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest read more

Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest thought.

Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, read more

Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses,
Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroyed his country; and his name remains
To th' ensuing age abhorred,' Speak to me son.
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
And yet to change thy sulphur with a bolt
That should rive an oak.

A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 3.

A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 3.

Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with read more

Where now I have no one to blush with me,
To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine,
To mask their brows and hide their infamy;
But I alone, alone must sit and pine,
Seasoning the earth with show'rs of silver brine,
Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans,
Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans.

Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable retreat; though not with
bag and baggage, yet with scrip and crippage.

Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable retreat; though not with
bag and baggage, yet with scrip and crippage.