Is she not passing fair? -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Is she not passing fair? -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 4.

O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. -King Richard III. read more

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 2.

Young in limbs, in judgment old. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Young in limbs, in judgment old. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

I never tempted her with word too large, But, as a brother to his sister, show'd Bashful sincerity and comely read more

I never tempted her with word too large, But, as a brother to his sister, show'd Bashful sincerity and comely love. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 1.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.

Masters, spread yourselves. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

Masters, spread yourselves. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! -As You read more

And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.