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William Shakespeare

  • mdshamselali1idézett2 évvel ezelőtt
    Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
    Hover through the fog and filthy air.
  • Chloe Navarroidézett2 évvel ezelőtt
    It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
    Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
    Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
    This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
  • Suha Sumaiyaidézett2 évvel ezelőtt
    Love said to be a child,
    Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
  • Mnemosyneidézett2 évvel ezelőtt
    love is not love

    Which alters when it alteration finds,

    Or bends with the remover to remove.
  • yasmin_☆idézettelőző év
    And tender churl mak'st waste in niggarding:

    Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

    To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee
  • yasmin_☆idézettelőző év
    From fairest creatures we desire increase,

    That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

    But as the riper should by time decease,

    His tender heir might bear his memory:

    But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,

    Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,

    Making a famine where abundance lies,

    Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:

    Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,

    And only herald to the gaudy spring,

    Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
  • yasmin_☆idézettelőző év
    Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?

    Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:

    Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,

    Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?

    If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,

    By unions married do offend thine ear,

    They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds

    In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear:

    Mark how one string sweet husband to another,

    Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;

    Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,

    Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
  • yasmin_☆idézettelőző év
    Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,

    Sings this to thee, 'Thou single wilt prove none'.
  • SOFIA SYAFRIZA HASHIMidézett2 évvel ezelőtt
    And by how much she strives to do him good,
    She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
    So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
    And out of her own goodness make the net
    That shall enmesh them all.
  • SOFIA SYAFRIZA HASHIMidézett2 évvel ezelőtt
    Two things are to be done:
    My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress;
    I'll set her on;
    Myself the while to draw the Moor apart,
    And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
    Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way
    Dull not device by coldness and delay.
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