Your old virginity is like one of our French withered pears: it looks ill, it eats dryly. – William Shakespeare
And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. – William Shakespeare
Your old virginity is like one of our French withered pears: it looks ill, it eats dryly. – William Shakespeare
And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. – William Shakespeare
Now, God be praised, that to believing souls gives light in darkness, comfort in despair. – William Shakespeare
I stalk about her door like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for wattage. – William Shakespeare