William Shakespeare

They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more

They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.

O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year! -The Merry Wives of read more

O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 4.

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others read more

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others touch, and often touching will
Wear gold; and no man that hath a name,
By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before read more

Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.