He's loved of the distracted multitude, who like not in their judgement, but their eyes.
William ShakespeareBetter conquest never canst thou make than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts against giddy, loose suggestions.
William Shakespearewhats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin i see hath been his timeless end. oh churl drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after. i will kiss thy lips some poisin doth hang on them, to help me die with a restorative. thy lips are warm. yea noise then ill be brief oh happy dagger this is thy sheath. there rust and let me die.
William Shakespeare