 |  |
|
| |
|
What can one say? Masterful. Genius. Immortal.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.
Antony, Antony and Cleopatra
Brutus and Caesar, what should be in that Caesar
Why should his name be sounded more than yours?
Write them, yours is as fair; Sound them,
Yours doth become the tongue as well
Weigh them, yours is as heavy; Conjure with them,
Brutus should start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
Now, in the names of all the Gods at once
Upon what meat does this Caesar feed that
he hath grown so great?
Cassius, Julius Caesar
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps about this petty pace from day to day
to the last syllable of recorded time; Out, out, brief candle!
Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player who
struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then
is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot
Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Macbeth, Macbeth
Was ever woman in this humor wooed?
Was ever woman in this humor WON?
Richard of Gloucester, Richard III
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
And Summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometimes too hot the eye of Heaven shines
And oft is his gold complexion dimmed
And fair sometimes from fair declines
By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor shall thou lose possession of that fair thou ownest
Nor shall death brag thou wander in his shade
When in eternal lines in time thou growest
So long as men can breathe, and eyes can see
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
William Shakespeare, A Sonnet