I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you, an 't were any nightingale. -A read more

I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you, an 't were any nightingale. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

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.

Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is, being, whereby a' may read more

Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is, being, whereby a' may be thought to be accommodated,—which is an excellent thing. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little read more

When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? that parchment, read more

Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? that parchment, being scribbled o'er, should undo a man? -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.

There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. read more

There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

Makes a swan-like end, Fading in music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Makes a swan-like end, Fading in music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

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.

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.