O, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all hooping. -As You read more

O, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all hooping. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow read more

O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phœbus in his strength,—a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. -As You Like It. Act read more

For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.

I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more

I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

He was indeed the glass Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. read more

He was indeed the glass Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act ii. Sc. 3.

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. read more

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.

At my fingers' ends. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

At my fingers' ends. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 3.

This bold bad man. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 2.

This bold bad man. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado read more

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1.