From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory;
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And tender churl mak'st waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be:
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
- William Shakespeare, Sonnet I
YOU ARE READING
quote.
Random❝He wrapped himself in quotations - as a beggar would enfold himself in the purple of Emperors.❞ - Rudyard Kipling A collection of quotes and poems by people who are much wiser, brighter, and better at articulating my thoughts and emotions than I am...
