In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our read more

In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. read more

Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.

The best in this kind are but shadows. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

The best in this kind are but shadows. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.

Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Let 's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! What ugly sights read more

Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks, Ten thousand men that fishes gnawed upon, Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scattered in the bottom of the sea: Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, As 't were in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 4.

He hath indeed better bettered expectation. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

He hath indeed better bettered expectation. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.

Patch grief with proverbs. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

Patch grief with proverbs. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act v. Sc. 1.

Your heart's desires be with you! -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

Your heart's desires be with you! -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there read more

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.