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This was Shakespeare's form;
Who walked in every path of human life,
Felt every passion; and to read more
This was Shakespeare's form;
Who walked in every path of human life,
Felt every passion; and to all mankind
Doth now, will ever, that experience yield
Which his own genius only could acquire.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. -King John. Act iii. read more
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.
The ripest fruit first falls. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
The ripest fruit first falls. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Who with a body filled and vacant mind Gets him to rest, crammed with distressful bread. -King Henry V. Act read more
Who with a body filled and vacant mind Gets him to rest, crammed with distressful bread. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 1.
All the learned and authentic fellows. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 3.
All the learned and authentic fellows. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 3.
Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more
Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 1.
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.
His nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. read more
His nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 3.
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more
All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
