Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford read more

Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair? -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. 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.

All the learned and authentic fellows. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 3.

All the learned and authentic fellows. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 3.

As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him read more

As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious. -King Richard II. Act v. Sc. 2.

To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures. -King Henry VIII. Act v. Sc. 2.

To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures. -King Henry VIII. Act v. Sc. 2.

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.

'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's read more

'T is all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

He doth nothing but talk of his horse. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

He doth nothing but talk of his horse. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. -King Henry IV. Part read more

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.