A plague of all cowards, I say. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

A plague of all cowards, I say. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Still you keep o' the windy side of the law. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Still you keep o' the windy side of the law. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, read more

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands,— This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

'T is well said again, And 't is a kind of good deed to say well: And yet words are read more

'T is well said again, And 't is a kind of good deed to say well: And yet words are no deeds. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 2.

A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in read more

Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burnt. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 1.

All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may. -The Merry read more

All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 1.

What 's gone and what 's past help Should be past grief. -The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc. 2.

What 's gone and what 's past help Should be past grief. -The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc. 2.

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls read more

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls the craft
Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed
The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled
Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled
With melody divine.