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The Tartness Of His Face Sours Ripe Grapes. -- William Shakespeare
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The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
-- William Shakespeare
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And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and ro
And thereby hangs a tale. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), As You Like It -- Act ii, Sc. 7...
I dote on his very absence. -- William Shakespeare
The soul of this man is in his clothes. -- William Shakespeare
There 's no art To find the mind's construction in the face.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Macbeth -- Act i, Sc. 4...
You are not worth the dust which the rude wind blows in your face. -- William Shakespeare
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not, But to those men that sought him sweet as summer....
Fie! What a spendthrift he is of his tongue! -- William Shakespeare
He is winding the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike. -- William Shakespeare
It is a good divine that follows his own instructions. -- William Shakespeare