Truth will come to sight; murder cannot be hid long. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Truth will come to sight; murder cannot be hid long. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give read more

Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation. -King John. Act i. Sc. read more

For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation. -King John. Act i. Sc. 1.

Base is the slave that pays. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Base is the slave that pays. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The passages of Shakespeare that we most prize were never quoted
until within this century.
- read more

The passages of Shakespeare that we most prize were never quoted
until within this century.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson,

Like a fair house, built on another man's ground. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Like a fair house, built on another man's ground. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

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.

Done to death by slanderous tongues. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 3.

Done to death by slanderous tongues. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. 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.