Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy.
William ShakespeareIf we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear.
William ShakespeareProphet may you be! If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, when time is old and hath forgot itself, when waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy, and blind oblivion swallowed cities up, and mighty states characterless are grated to dusty nothing, yet let memory, from false to false, among false maids in love, upbraid my falsehood!
William Shakespeare