The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An read more

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An hour by his dial. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iv. read more

The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iv. Sc. 5.

For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. -As You Like It. Act read more

For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.

A proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

A proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

The blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. read more

The blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare! -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

I do desire we may be better strangers. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I do desire we may be better strangers. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.

All hell shall stir for this. -King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 1.

All hell shall stir for this. -King Henry V. Act v. Sc. 1.