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This night methinks is but the daylight sick. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
This night methinks is but the daylight sick. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more
Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.
And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, read more
And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.
If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of read more
If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 5.
O, call back yesterday, bid time return! -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.
O, call back yesterday, bid time return! -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have look'd on read more
Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have look'd on better days, If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.
We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.
But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. -King Henry V. Act read more
But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing. -King Henry VIII. read more
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 1.
