Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Lord, what fools these mortals be! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Lord, what fools these mortals be! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I dote on his very absence. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

I dote on his very absence. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

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.

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. -As You Like read more

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 1.

It goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

It goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

For there was never yet philosopher That could endure the toothache patiently. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. read more

In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can read more

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear! -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.