He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act read more

He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.

I cannot tell what the dickens his name is. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 2.

I cannot tell what the dickens his name is. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 2.

You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

He will give the devil his due. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

He will give the devil his due. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. read more

Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 4.

Deeper than did ever plummet sound I 'll drown my book. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.

Deeper than did ever plummet sound I 'll drown my book. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That read more

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our verse would scrawl,
For Shakespeare he had said it all!

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, read more

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

The big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. -As You Like It. Act ii. read more

The big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.