When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions. – William Shakespeare
I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks. – William Shakespeare
When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions. – William Shakespeare
I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks. – William Shakespeare
Your old virginity is like one of our French withered pears: it looks ill, it eats dryly. – William Shakespeare