And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.

And like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be shook to air. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.

I 'll not budge an inch. -The Taming of the Shrew. Induc. Sc. 1.

I 'll not budge an inch. -The Taming of the Shrew. Induc. Sc. 1.

We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

We will draw the curtain and show you the picture. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

You may as well say, that 's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a read more

You may as well say, that 's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 7.

There 's small choice in rotten apples. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 1.

There 's small choice in rotten apples. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 1.

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more

Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her read more

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart: For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. read more

Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down. -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.

A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.

A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. -Measure for Measure. Act v. Sc. 1.