Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers. – William Shakespeare
I stalk about her door like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for wattage. – William Shakespeare
Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers. – William Shakespeare
I stalk about her door like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for wattage. – William Shakespeare
These earthly godfathers of Heavens lights, that give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit of their shining nights than those that walk and know not what they are. – William Shakespeare
O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper. I would not be mad. – William Shakespeare