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When we mean to build, We first survey the plot, then draw the model; And when we see the figure read more
When we mean to build, We first survey the plot, then draw the model; And when we see the figure of the house, Then must we rate the cost of the erection. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 3.
You shall comprehend all vagrom men. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
You shall comprehend all vagrom men. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
He was ever precise in promise-keeping. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 2.
He was ever precise in promise-keeping. -Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 2.
Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? read more
Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.
One out of suits with fortune. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.
One out of suits with fortune. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes read more
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.
If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, read more
If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 1.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark! -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. read more
I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark! -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.
