Which one keeps calling?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

When others borrow your grace, who truly earns the praise—your beauty or the poet who borrows it?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

You turn faults into ornaments: what danger hides when charm makes deceit look like grace?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

When praise perfumes a blot, who will point out the stain?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

I value you above wealth and rank—yet the thought you might leave makes me utterly wretched.

Shakespeare's Sonnets

Don't gild her: plain, true words suit her better than any painted praise—who decided otherwise?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

I feast on you one moment and starve for a look the next—how can love become both gluttony and famine?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

My absence turned summer to winter; even summer's abundance felt orphaned without you—why does joy go mute?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

When your countenance filled up his line, my verse ran dry—how does another's praise make my voice vanish?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

Too dear to keep—when the gift comes back, I wake from being a king in sleep and must ask what I ever deserved.

Shakespeare's Sonnets

If your face never betrays you, how can I tell whether your heart has changed?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

They that have power to hurt, and will do none—why does restraint crown some as true masters?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

You have made all poets sing—am I honored or erased when your grace lifts every pen?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

I'll build your monument with my verse and let you outlive me—what does it cost a poet to buy another's immortality?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

If you forsake me, I'll make your name forbidden and pretend to be a stranger—how far will self-betrayal go to punish love?

Shakespeare's Sonnets

I grow faint at writing your name—how does one survive when a better poet makes you sound small?