Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
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Search results for Elizabethan era, early 17th century
542 allegories found
Page 15 of 55
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I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
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The quality of mercy is not strain'd, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath.
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Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
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Though she be but little, she is fierce!
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How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
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They stumble that run fast.
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False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
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Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
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Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
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