The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to. — William Shakespeare, Cymbeline
The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to. — William Shakespeare, Cymbeline
The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to. — William Shakespeare, Cymbeline
The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to. — William Shakespeare, Cymbeline
The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to. — William Shakespeare, Cymbeline
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The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to.

— William Shakespeare, Cymbeline
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More “End” Quotes

Have you killed a man, drowned a crocodile, hunted a wolf, or raped an abuser? Stop pretending you love someone. — M.F. Moonzajer, LOVE, HATRED AND MADNESS
As he returned to the bed, he could see Vallant eyeing him warily, but he ignored this, sat on the opposite end and brac — Heidi Cullinan, A Private Gentleman
The question that remains unanswered and keeps coming to the fore is ‘Are the punishment schemes for child sex and sexua — Henrietta Newton Martin Legal Consultant
Many of us ordinary folk have tasted these moments of "union" - on the ladder, in the pond, in the jungle, on the hospit — Stephen Cope, Yoga and the Quest for the True Self
But for today, my friends, we have the Sword and the Promise," Creedus said. With the fire again rising, he bent low to — Jaffrey Clark, The Sword and the Promise
There goes the world's wimpiest vampire. — Heather Swain, Josie Griffin is Not a Vampire
When I was going on one day in the car about not having any close friends - using my favourite metaphor: the cage of gla — John Fowles, The Magus
The boy with the haunted eyes was Dory's secret. Eli. And she knew that she had to see him again. — Teresa Flavin, Jet Black Heart
There's a bit of a local legend about a jet heart that has turned up over the years," Flynn said. "Any time it turns up, — Teresa Flavin, Jet Black Heart
In the spirit of the Alpha and the Omega, in the way the Alpha was theOmega, and vice versa, he knew the beginning was a — Sol Luckman, Snooze: A Story of Awakening
The hour of spring was dark at last,sensuous memories of sunlight past,I stood alone in garden bowersand asked the value — Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy
There is no sanctity. This is the downfall of innocence. — Nadège Richards, Asylum 54.0