Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour; And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.
William ShakespeareGive sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
William ShakespeareWatch tonight, pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you!
William ShakespeareThis was the noblest Roman of them all. All the conspirators, save only he,Did that they did in envy of Caesar;He only, in a general honest thoughtAnd common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elementsSo mixd in him that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world, This was a man!
William Shakespeare