Though he was born centuries ago, we're still watching his plays and studying his works. And his words continue to resonate today.

“When You Come to Me,” however, does neither ... to show up—with all one’s fears and hopes intact. This poem doesn’t name a specific historical moment, yet it feels as if it knows ...

Don’t ask me any questions. I’m lucky I know this. In Rao’s a group celebrating whoknowswhat invested in the jukebox. Came on was some voice that passed away long before Lafayette’s ...

Trump dreams of his own Kafkaesque penal colony, a place where he can ship the accused without the trouble of a trial, a ...

whose esteemed poem “To the Memory of My Beloved the Author, William Shakespeare” reads: “To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, These debates of authorship tend to treat inference as ...

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant ... He was good to me. At school play-times he looked after me. When I had a problem he sorted things out one way or another. Before his 34-year marriage his ...

There was absolutely no sense that he was afraid of what stood before him — a pending trial ... Completely unshackled, he greeted me with a handshake, described in my notes as "moist.'' ...

Tell me your name, and we'll start from there ... O my soul ♪ ♪ And forget not all his benefits ♪ ♪ Who forgiveth all thy sin ♪ ♪ And healeth all thine infirmities ♪ ♪ [Meow ...