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A wretched soul bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. |
| Uncategorized |
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| Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear. |
| Absence |
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| Adieu! I have too grieved a heart to take a tedious leave |
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward,
But then woos best when most his choice is froward. |
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| Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, and thou art wedded to calamity. |
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| After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further. |
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| Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety, other women cloy |
| Age |
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| Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies. |
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| Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we: For such as we are made of, such we be |
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| Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy... |
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All impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy. |
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| All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of |
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