'T were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it. -All 's Well read more

'T were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 1.

A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't. -Coriolanus. Act ii. Sc. 1.

For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation. -King John. Act i. Sc. read more

For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation. -King John. Act i. Sc. 1.

Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. read more

Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 2.

'T is my vocation, Hal; 't is no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. -King Henry IV. read more

'T is my vocation, Hal; 't is no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. -As You Like It. read more

I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4.

This will last out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 1.

This will last out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there. -Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. read more

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.