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The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
Voltaire and Shakespeare! He was all
The other feigned to be.
The flippant Frenchman speaks: I weep;
read more
Voltaire and Shakespeare! He was all
The other feigned to be.
The flippant Frenchman speaks: I weep;
And Shakespeare weeps with me.
I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to
Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he read more
I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to
Shakespeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never
plotted out a line. My answer hath been, would he had blotted a
thousand.
An I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I 'ld have seen him damned ere I' read more
An I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I 'ld have seen him damned ere I' ld have challenged him. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in read more
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.
An unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised; Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn. -The Merchant read more
An unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised; Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better read more
Ay, now am I in Arden: the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To read more
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.