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Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be read more
Masters, it is proved already that you are little better than false knaves; and it will go near to be thought so shortly. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iv. Sc. 2.
A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
I know a trick worth two of that. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 1.
I know a trick worth two of that. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 1.
I 'll not budge an inch. -The Taming of the Shrew. Induc. Sc. 1.
I 'll not budge an inch. -The Taming of the Shrew. Induc. Sc. 1.
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee read more
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. -King Henry VIII. 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.
Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 3.
Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 3.
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.
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.
