Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 2.

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity. -King Henry IV. Part II. read more

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy. -Troilus and read more

Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy. -Troilus and Cressida. Act i. Sc. 3.

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Unless experience be a jewel. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Tester I 'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. read more

Tester I 'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
read more

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.

Put thyself into the trick of singularity. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Put thyself into the trick of singularity. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Fortune reigns in gifts of the world. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

Fortune reigns in gifts of the world. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.